


Blacked Out

by Sagoberattare



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental kidnapping, Bring on the Floofers!, Drunken Shenanigans, Families of Choice, Floof Doggies are the best, I'm making this up as I go, Inspired by AntlersandFangs and Celtic_Lass, MC keeps befriended Spirits, MGiT, Modern Girl in Thedas, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, PoC MC, Things I wish we could do in Game, Triggers, and Ancient Elves, and demons, coping methods, doggies, the timeline is getting shafted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 54,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23764207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagoberattare/pseuds/Sagoberattare
Summary: You've been through a lot in your young life and had come out alive and content for the most part, and have handled everything thrown at you remarkably well. But after a night of black out drunkenness, you found yourself in a whole other world, and was now trying to comprehend how  you managed to cross reality itself and crashed your mobile trailer into the Crossroads... and lets not even go into the fact Xenon the Antiquarian was inquiring whether or not you were in the market for a job.
Comments: 293
Kudos: 200





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AntlersandFangs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntlersandFangs/gifts), [Celtic_Lass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celtic_Lass/gifts).



> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. I haven't been very motivated or inspired lately, so Thanks to them for the inspiration. Now go read their work, they are phenomenal.

* * *

It was a muggy humid day, the kind where you were fairly positive you were actually swimming in the air, your glasses kept sliding down the bridge of your nose as sweat dripped down you spine in rivets and you were pretty certain that you were well on your way to developing swamp knickers by now. The fact it was almost sunset did nothing to ease the sweltering heat, though perhaps that would change in another hour.

And worst, your coffee was cold now.

_Screw it,_ you thought as you finally gave in to the exhaustive heat and made a left. Having no A/C in your truck in the middle of summer was never fun and on long stretches of road like this one made it seem to last forever. Times like this you envied your babies that were riding in the trailer.

A rest stop was up ahead, and you could relax a bit there before sleeping in the mobile trailer hooked to your truck. _And it actually has A/C, so yay!_

Once there you stretched your legs, groaning softly as you finally bothered to turn your phone back on to check where you wandered.

That had become a habit of yours, turn the phone off and let the road guide you. It led you to some very interesting places so far, and you liked to think your family would be supportive of your coping method.

Eventually you moved into the large mobile trailer that had been your home for the last two years, and was welcomed by Fezzik, Moro and Bojack, your three beloved puppies.

Okay, so only Fezzik was a puppy, but as he was a Caucasian Shepard/Newfoundland puppy, it meant he was a big boy and still needed training. He had been given to you in leu of payment, as the guy who gave him to you was a dog breeder that had the unfortunate situation of having his dog breed with the wrong animal. He hadn’t wanted a mutt and was happy to hand him off. Thankfully Fezzik had the three-year-old Moro to guide him… who just happened a Irish Collie/Malamute/German Sheppard/grey wolf mix. Moro was rescued at a pound, the guys there having been ready to put her down since she was difficult to train, but she was a sweetheart. Bojack on the other hand was previously your father’s, a five-year-old stubby legged Pitbull who was the sweetest drool and fart monster you ever seen.

They were your babies, and as you leashed them up to do their business you couldn’t help but feel adoration for them.

Soon enough you released them back inside and maneuvered towards the kitchenette. This meant you had to move around the many, many boxes in your trailer, that were full of books, games arts and crafts and several tubs of various seeds.

How your puppies easily navigated everything was beyond you.

Eventually you made it to the tiny kitchenette, downing your cold coffee and looking for something to munch on as you prepped your puppies dinner. You had just finished with setting the last bowl down when you looked at the map that hung directly by the entrance. Startled, you checked your location again as a grin spread across your face as you checked off the final empty spot on the map.

“Well familia, we did it. We have been to every state!” You practically vibrated, thrusting a fist into the air in victory.

“We’re going to celebrate! That last town we were in had some amazing boozes!”

Cheerfully you rushed around your home, grabbing a truly impressive amount of alcohol and snacks. Then you laid a picture down, four people smiling happily from it. 

“Dad, Mom,” you tapped the left side of the frame before repeating it on the right, “Sam and Riley.”

You took a sip of the drink, savoring it. “Well guys, we did it. All fifty states. Mom, Dad, thanks for those trips to Hawaii and Alaska, don’t think we’d have been able to do this otherwise. I know you two were pretty young during those times, but I plan to take another trip to those places again for you. It’ll take a decade or so though.” you informed the kids in the frame. Sam and Riley had complained that they couldn’t remember those trips, which was fair since they had been three and five for the first trip and four and six for the other.

You chuckled at the memory of your siblings, at how they begged your parents to take them on another trip to the farthest two states and how your Dad did some dumb Dad joke in response that left your Mom cackling.

It didn’t hurt to remember anymore.

“Well, Dad, you’ll be happy to know that I am still gainfully employed, even if you don’t think knitting, designing clothes and creating arts and crafts counts as a job. Its pays for everything here and keeps this place moving and- oh! I finally paid off the loan for this place! It is one hundred percent mine now!”

You had been overjoyed at that and you knew your Dad would have been as well. He had always been preaching about the horrors of debt and would take time to teach you how to correctly make and keep a budget. Bojack sat on your foot, smiling a drooly doggy smile at you.

“Hey Mom, you’d love this new commission I have, it was for this couple who are expecting soon! A little knitted onesie that looks like that toddler’s from Labyrinth. In other words, adorable. I sent it out at the last place I stopped, so they should be getting it in like two weeks.”

She had taught you so many ways to make an outfit and was always gushing over new styles and different types of fabrics. You still had that ugly but oh so warm and fuzzy sweater she made as a joke. Fezzik sat on your other foot, looking up at you adoringly.

“Sam, you’d be what, sixteen now? And Riley, oof, you’ll be eighteen in a few months! A grown adult! Damn, where do the time go?” you paused to drink some more, trying to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“I restarted Dragon Age. Yeah, I know, I’ve played that maybe a couple hundred times but it’s a classic from our childhood! And it fits quite nicely with my nomadic lifestyle.”

You didn’t mention that both of your sibling’s profiles were still on there, untouched.

“I…I miss you guys. But life is going pretty well now, so don’t worry about me. I’m doing good.”

Moro placed her head on your lap, looking soulfully at you. You petted her and chuckled as Fezzik and Bojack whined for attention. 

“Well, cheers. Gotta get the puppies to bed.” Bed being what should have been a human bedroom, converted into a doggy bedroom as you preferred the little couch next to the entrance of the trailer. During winter you slept with them, but not in a summer so hot that even Satan’s ass crack was chafing.

You drained the bottle, melancholy settling in your bones as you gathered the dogs and placed them into the room before wandering back to the kitchenette.

It was the truth; you were doing good. No outstanding debts, a working car, a place that was yours, a significant garden waiting to get planted, a library that just needed to space to be set up, enough fabrics to clothe an army, three friendly dogs for company, and you traveled all the time. All of your worldly possessions were right here in your home.

You had no reason to complain, so you wouldn’t.

Reaching for another bottle you started to drink it, eyeing the multitude of alcoholic beverages in your tiny kitchenette.

Well, it was a celebration. Why not indulged?

You had finished your six drink when the already swaying world tripped over itself and plunged you into welcoming darkness.

* * *

It was dark when you regained conscious, having awakened to whines and tugs on your shirt. Everything hurt, from your pounding head, your rolling gut and even your back ached like crazy.

_This has got to be the worst hang over I have ever had,_ you thought with a whimper as you felt your stomach churn violently and you barely had enough time to get on your knees before you started vomiting.

Your stomach settled as you heaved there, on your hand and knees looking at the grass you knew your home didn’t have, vomit coating your arms and knees.

Did you wander out of your home during a bender? You never did that before! You struggled to look up, trying not to cause another dizzy spell.

It was then that you realized that you didn’t have your glasses on, causing the world around you to be one massive blur of colors and fuzz _. This… is the rest stop, right? Where are the lights?_

This felt… weird. Like the air itself was swirling around you, yet it was quiet…way too quiet for a rest stop. There weren’t any lights, not artificially anyway. And it sounded almost like you were in a forest but between the darkness and your lack of glasses you weren’t sure of your surroundings.

More whining was heard, and you felt a rough tongue licking your face and by the smell of the breath alone you knew it was Bojack.

“H-hey, hun,” you slurred, voice feeling like sandpaper, bile still fresh in your mouth. The white slobbery blur huffed at you, and suddenly wondered where the others were.

You question was answered by a greyish brown blur walking towards you, lupine head shoving itself under your arm. Moro whined, pushing you. With a bit of a struggle you got to your feet, and while the light wasn’t great you made out another blur that was running back and forth, a darker black than usual thanks to the lack of light. You let out a sigh of relief as your children were accounted for.

You ended up leaning heavily on Moro, your body crying out in pain, especially the back of your head. You gingerly touched it, and when you pulled away it was slick with blood. That was worrying yet it was just another pain as your whole body throbbed, all in a way that made you hope you had not gotten into an actual fight with someone. Where was your trailer?

Fezzik let out a puppy boff, and Bojack shot after him as Moro guided you to who knows where.

You heard a cry of terror and running. 

"H-hello? what-" Your words died as _something_ to your far right flashed blue before abruptly dying, leaving you cussing at the blinding light. You blinked rapid at the spots in your eyes, and called out again but no one answered. Moro was also insistently pushing you along, Bojack butting your calf to get you to move on and you allowed them to, suddenly fearful of what was out there.

Soon enough you saw another bright blur ahead and you winced, the vivid blue hurting your eyes. You continued towards it, hoping it led back to civilization.

The closer you got to the bright blue blur, the more you squinted at it. It was a lot larger up close, possibly ten feet tall of eye searing blue. Was it a sign?

Fezzik ran towards it…and promptly disappeared through it.

“Fezz-!” You called out, reaching you’re the puppy when Moro pushed you towards it, and a rippling sensation hit you as _you fell through_ …

…and then you blacked out again as you hit a wooden floor with a ‘thud’.

The second time you awoke was somehow much worse than the first time. You felt like you had been hit by a truck and the driver proceeded to back up on you.

Everything hurt, and you were fairly certain the hangover wasn’t the main cause. Your pillow shifted, telling you that you must have been sleeping with the dogs. This was confirmed when your pillow raised her head, licking you carefully. Bojack was snoring on your left side, Fezzik spread across your legs meaning that everyone was accounted for.

Glasses still missing, you squinted around in hopes of identifying something enough to make out where you were. The room seemed to be some kind of mirror room, if the blue reflection was anything to go by. Looking behind you, you flinched at the tall bright blue light that apparently was a door of some kind, though you didn’t know how or why anybody wanted a weird glowing blue door. It was also clearly daytime out there so that would mean you’ve been out for a while.

A creaking noise filled the air and suddenly Moro was standing with Bojack, a low growl echoing around as a startled gasp was heard as Fezzik rolled off your legs. In a corner was a short person shaped blob, holding what must have been a door that you couldn’t see at the moment.

“H-hey girl, down,” you gritted out, holding onto Moro’s collar. Bojack seemed to have sat on Fezzik, who as far as you could tell was wiggling under the heavier dog.

_Oh, please tell me I didn’t break into someone’s home._ You thought frantically, trying to look harmless. The human shaped blob disappeared, door slamming shut.

You tried to stand up and almost immediately cried. Everything hurt!

With a hiss you raised your arms, trying to assess the damage. You felt a little lightheaded as you made out your limbs that were generously covered in dirt, vomit, dried blood from cuts and _dark_ bruises. Looking down at your legs might have been futile without your glasses yet you still spotted blotches of dark colors across them.

Gently you wiggled your fingers and wrists, then your toes and ankles to test them and were relieved to find them not hurting. Next you tested your arms and legs, finding your right side hurting far worse but at a manageable level.

You were brought out of further assessments of your person by the door creaking open again. You had barely made out the person when suddenly Fezzik ran forward. The door slammed shut, Fezzik boffing at it cheerfully.

“Fezzik! Here!” you commanded; voice gritty but strong. Once at your side, you grabbed the collar and called out, louder. “Sorry, he’s still learning! I got him now, and the others won’t bother you!”

At first nothing happened. Then you made out a movement and heard a gentle creak of a door, followed by a blurry round thing you assumed was the head sticking out.

You smiled friendly, hoping you didn’t look as bad as you felt… though if the rest of you looked like your limbs that was a hopeless endeavor.

Slowly the person edged in, and though you couldn’t make out any definite traits you were fairly certain they were hesitantly making their way towards you and your puppies by the jerky options they made, as though they were prepping themselves if they needed to run for the door.

With deliberate movement they placed something on the ground, a clank being heard as they set it down. As soon as they did that they took off, the door once more slamming behind them.

Scooting forward, you discovered a bowl with a pitcher inside with what appeared to be a cloth next to it. Gently you lifted the pitcher, which sloshed inside, and you were suddenly reminded that your mouth tasted like regurgitated misery and were very dehydrate.

The water was cool and heavenly to your parched mouth and you had to stop yourself from downing it too quickly. The last thing you needed was to throw it back up.

You cleaned up, wiping as much dirt and vomit off as you could with a grimace. You needed to shower and get clean clothes, stat.

The door creaked opened again, and this time when Fezzik ran up the person ran to you. They practically hid behind you, and you were suddenly realizing that the person was kid size.

You barely had time to register this when the kid started pulling you towards the door. Right, you were in their home, they were either kicking you out or taking you to an adult… _that was it, you were never drinking again._

The kid jerked at your arm, and you squinted at them, barely making out their arms that were moving around.

“Hey, um kiddo? I lost my glasses so I’m practically blind here, so could you tell me what you need? Or where we are going.”

The kid stopped for a moment before raising their hand towards your face. They didn’t stop until you could see the dirt between their fingernails, then made a hand gesture that looked like a mouth. It opened and closed until a finger was held up, like it was shushing the mouth…

“You… can’t talk?” You guessed, and the hand shifted into a fist that nodded up and down.

The kid pointed to your and them before making a walking motion, then pointed towards the door.

“You want me to go with you?”

Another fist nodded, before pointing to the dogs then making a negative gesture.

“And you want me to leave my puppies?”

Though you couldn’t see them clearly, you did see them turn around to look at the dogs then back at you, probably with an expression that said ‘ _THOSE_ are _puppies_?!’.

Hesitantly you agreed, allowing the kid to lead you out. The kid acting like a crutch as they led you out through a small door. You entered a hallway… that looked like it could go on into a blurry eternity and judging by the bright shifting orange blots had actual torches instead of electricity. What the hell, you didn’t end up in some kind of boonies did you?

You hobbled down the right, the kid leading you to who knows where. Your pounding head and aching body prevented you from thinking too hard but not preventing the panic bubbling inside you. Before you could speak, they opened a black door, pulling you through. Going from a poorly lit hallway to a bright room made you hiss, squinting as the light stabbed your brain.

A loud, resounding and veeeeeeeery familiar voice boomed out.

“URCHIN! WHY IS THERE A TROLLOP IN MY EMPORIUM?”

Forcing your eyes to open wider, you could only stare in dumb shock as what appeared to be a life size prop of Xenon the Antiquarian yelled. The child walked forward and started tapping the armchair

Looking around was useless yet you did so anyways, looking around at the vivid blobs ad blurs desperately trying to make sense of your situation. _Somethings wrong, somethings very wrong._

“…SHE CAME FROM THE MIRROR ROOM? _FROM_ A MIRROR?”

A thumping noise caught your attention, and you couldn’t stop the yelp of terror as a brown monstrosity came at you, fist raised-

“STOP!”

-the fist stopped, barely a hairs breath from your head. You could make out the individual grooves in what was an _actual stone fist that that **nearly pulped your head** —_

“LEAVE HER BE, THADDEUS.”

The stone monster ( _Holy shit that’s a golem_ ) moved away, and you felt whatever calm you still may have possessed fly out the damn window and crumbled to the ground, dry heaving in terror.

_I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming!_

The voice of Xenon spoke on.

“WHERE PRECISELY DO YOU COME FROM?”

Too terrified at your near death by golem thing, you babbled for several minutes until the thing that might be Xenon cut you off.

“EARTH YOU SAY? HMM… URCHIN, FIND HER A ROOM TO PASS OUT IN, AND ONCE SHE IS RESTED, GET HER DRESSED IN SOMETHING APPROPRIATE AND BRING HER BACK HERE FOR FURTHER DISCUSSION AND POSSIBLE EMPLOYMENT. THERE SHOULD BE SOMETHING IN HERE FOR HER TO WEAR.”

_Back here?! Employment??_ You thought hysterically, allowing the child to pull you to your feet and led you away.

Soon you were back into that room with your puppies, the kid making a hasty retreat as you buried your face into Moro’s thick fur as you desperately hugged the other two, mumbling, “Its just a dream, it’s just a dream…”

…right?

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. I haven't been very motivated or inspired lately, so Thanks to them for the inspiration. Now go visit them and read their works because they are phenomenal.

* * *

  


The Irish coffee was made to perfection, the air was warm and breezy, and you relaxed under the umbrella at the small coffee shop you were at.

The sky was the wrong color, greener than blue with too many moons but honestly, this was the most cogent you have ever been during a dream, so you enjoyed it.

Somewhere on your left the Avengers and Justice League were playing DnD, Hancock was taking a Mentat break two tables over while holding a conversation with Stan Pines, a quidditch match was taking place above you, and off to your far left was Hiccup and Toothless teaching Daenerys how to train her dragons, with the Miraak eyeing her dragons.

You have always been more lucid than most when dreaming, able to recall things fairly well but never quite like this! You giggled a little, relaxing as you were content to just sit and observe your fairly coherent dream.

The Snitch passed by your head when the seat across from you became occupied.

“Hey there.” A male voice said across from you, adopting a relaxed form in the seat. You remembered him, he was a hippy that propositioned you back when you traveled through Oregon and was understanding when you turned him down. The hippy outfit was spot on but the head… you snorted a little. You recalled how the guy had very equine looking features, but your dream apparently took this literally and now the guy had an actual horse’s head.

“Wrong head,” you said helpfully, chuckling at this strange turn of events.

The guy stopped, looking confused. The head turned into a donkey’s, and you fought to not laugh. “Nope, wrong again.”

The guy did not seem put out, changing his head into a black stallion.

“Keep trying.” You urged, wondering where this was going to go.

This went on for quite a while, hippy-horse man changing his head into various different heads with you encouraging him to try again and again. Finally, he asked plaintively, “What is the right head?”

Feeling philosophical, you learned back into your seat. “Which one felt right to you?”

The hippy-horse cocked his spotted head to the side, apparently in deep thought. His head shifted again, this time taking the form of a unicorn with goat’s eyes. “This one?”

“Then that’s the right head for you,” you smiled, raising your coffee in salute, “and what a pretty head you have.”

The hippy-unicorn man smiled (which was mildly terrifying thing to witness because he had a dog’s mouth, meaning it stretched all the way to his goat eyes and had rows of sharp teeth), and you gave a closed mouth smile back as you felt the tug of consciousness taking ahold.

Strange dream, but a nice one.

  


* * *

  


Pain was the first thing you registered upon awakening. _Maaaaan, this has got to be the worst hangover ever…_ you thought miserably, snuggling the furry pillow… which was snoring into your ear.

“Mornin’, Bojack.” You mumbled, not bothering to open your eyes. He has always been a snuggler and has often found his way onto the couch to cuddle you let you use him as a pillow. You never slept long with him around because his snoring sounded like a buzzsaw, but it was the thought that count.

Moro was whining in your ear, telling you it was time to run outside and answer the call of nature, and Fezzik was oddly quiet.

That last one made you reach for the stand next to the couch, grasping for your glasses. This was when you realized that the couch was too hard to be a couch and pried your eyes open, inhaling sharply when you did not recognize your surroundings and it had nothing to do with being very near-sighted.

You… were in that mirror room… from your drunken Dragon Age hallucination… _why were you still hallucinating…_

You shot up and just as quickly dropped back down, a yelp of pain escaping you as your whole body throbbed in bruised soreness. Moro and Bojack crowded you, trying to help.

Slowly you stood back up, gritting your teeth at the ache, squinting at your surroundings in an attempt to make sense of what was going on.

The only source of light in the room was the glowing blue mirror, causing the whole room to be illuminated as it reflected off the others. You looked back to where you vaguely remember the door was, finding Fezzik pawing at something next to it.

With Moro’s help you made your way over, finding an empty plate and pitcher with clothes next to it.

 _Oh, the puppies must have gotten the food and water,_ you assumed, suddenly worried about when they had last eaten. How long have you been here?

Kneeling down to take the clothes, looking down at the tanktop and shorts you were wearing, a wince of disgust on your face as you became aware of how pungent you must smell with the sweat, blood and vomit still caked on you.

A gentle knock sounded out, and Fezzik and Bojack proceeded to bark at the door.

The door cracked opened, large enough to push another pitcher in and a bag thrown in your direction. You barely caught the bag before the door clicked shut, and you had to get your puppies to sit down to keep from jumping at you, or namely the bag in your hands.

The aroma of cooked pork arose from the bag and your mouth watered as your stomach chose then to inform you that you haven’t eaten in a while. Looking inside revealed the pork, as well as hard looking bread.

Fezzik tried to jump up at the bag, reminding you that they were probably still hungry. Soon enough you were nibbling the hard bread as you divvied up the pork to the others.

Washing it down with the pitcher, you found a rag tied around the handle. Mentally thanking the kid, you did a quick wash down from the remaining water, leaning against a mirror for support. You looked closely into the mirrors, your reflection staring back at you. Your normally bronze skin was a sickly pallor, dark umber hair greasy, the back of your head throbbed hotly in a way that worried you, a pattern of bruises that spread across your face, with a thick red cut that trailed down your jawline, ending uncomfortably close to your jugular.

You look like you had gotten into a fight with a kangaroo. Looking away to pick up the clothes, you couldn’t stop scowling at the skirt in your hands. It was coarse yet clean, so you refused to complain as you dressed.

You struggled a little before finally getting the thing on and looked back into the mirror, close due to your bad eyesight. You were dressed like… Leandra, in the beginning of the game, but with no collar necklace thing.

You stumbled away until the image blurred, your breathing coming out quick as you fight the desire to rip this thing off you like a bad case of joojoo.

A outfit, it was only a outfit, yet it somehow did what every other glaringly obvious thing could not do by driving home that you weren’t on Earth anymore and had somehow gotten transported into the Black Emporium… or the Crossroads.

You stared at the glowing blue mirror with more apprehension now and came to a sudden realization that the other mirrors might not just be normal mirrors.

Oh gods, you were just naked in here!

You tripped towards the door, yanking it open and almost ran into the kid ( _Urchin, they were Xenon’s FIND-YOUR-OWN Urchin_ ), who pushed you back into the room full of potentially spying mirrors, as well as keeping the dogs inside. The kid made a movement and must have thrown something behind you, making your dogs rush after it, and you turned to see them rushing through the active mirror. You took a step to go after them but was pulled off balanced by the child, door closing behind you.

“My puppies-!” You shrieked, only to get a pair of hands in your face, causing you to jerk back.

Urchin made motions and gestures, and after a moment of trying to deduce the meaning, you hazard a guess. “Your saying… they are safe?”

A nodding fist followed by several more gestures. “You need me to follow you? To… to him?”

Again you saw a nodding fist before it dropped down, tugging you along.

As you walked, you forcibly composed yourself, breathing deeply.

_Inhale, hold. One, two, three, four. Exhale._

_Focus, your alive, healthy if bruised and cut, and the dogs are here and don’t appear to be harmed… we’ll check them thoroughly when we get back, but you are alive and so are they._

_Inhale, hold. One, two, three, four. Exhale._

_What do we need? Amenities such as a dry place to sleep, food and water, a job. What applicable skills do you have that could help you survive in Thedas?_

_Inhale, hold. One, two, three, four. Exhale._

_Sewing, knitting, crocheting, gardening. Tailor or farmer._

_Inhale, hold. One, two, three, four. Exhale._

_Where are you? Inside Kirkwall. Can you survive here in Kirkwall? Possibly. Would you want to stay in Kirkwall? Absolutely not, but where then?_

_Inhale, hold. One, two, three, four. Exhale._

_Where was safe for your puppies?_

_Inhale, hold. One, two, three, four. Exhale._

You came upon your answer as you spotted the blurry black door the kid was taking you to, head throbbing in time with your heart.

_The Emporium._

You had to convince Xenon to let you stay here, at least until you could find a safer place to live. Kirkwall was dangerous even before the events of DA2, and as strange as he was Xenon had quite possibly the only safe place in the City of Chains. It was practically impossible to find without aide and was apparently a lot bigger than the game showed, which meant you could keep the dogs safe.

Not to mention the mirror… even if it led to nowhere it was clearly outside, which would allow your puppies a ‘yard’ to play in. Maybe even a garden?

 _Don’t get ahead of yourself,_ you chided, _you still gotta convince the immortal carcass to let you stay. Maybe you could give him science-based inventions? Does the ink press exist here yet? The cotton gin?_

 _No matter what though,_ you resolved firmly _, I am not telling him about the Dragon Age franchise. That is a can of worms I am not opening. Ever._

You were pulled abruptly from your thoughts as Urchin pulled you through the door, tugging you the whole way till you stood before the massive pink-grey blob that was the proprietor.

“AH, I AM GLAD TO SEE YOU JOINING US SOBER.” The massive splotch of inert color in the center said, voice slow and deliberate, with parts of words emphasis wrongly. “AND DRESSED IN APPROPREATE ATTIRE!”

Grimacing, you rubbed the rough fabric, mentally reminding yourself ask Urchin for both a pair of pants and a shirt that didn’t feel like you would pop out if your exhaled too deeply.

“WELCOME TO THE BLACK EMPORIUM.” _Oh god, he says it just like in the game!_ “I AM THE GREAT AND MAGNIFICENT XENON THE ANTIQUARIAN.” 

“Hello…mister.” You started, deciding to go with ‘mister’ since ‘sir’ could be misconstrued as ‘ser’. You also got a bit closer, trying to make out the being before you. “I do apologies for arriving without invite, but in my defense, I am very, very lost.”

You decided to be very polite. Xenon was a hoot in the game, but right now you needed him to like you enough to not sic Thaddeus on you, and to figure out _when_ exactly you were. _Gods, please don’t be during Dragon Age two._ You thought as you gave the sincerest expression you possessed. “I am afraid I was not good company last time and do not recall what I said last time we met. I have… alright, I have no idea how I got here, nor have I met anyone who could tell me where I am. All I know for certain is I’m not anywhere close to my wo-country.”

You inched closer as he spoke. “YES, EARTH IS A BIT FARTHER THAN YOUR USED TO I WOULD WAGER.”

That…wasn’t something you were expecting, making you pause in your quest to see an actual Dragon Age character. “Wait, you heard of Earth? Do you know _where_ or _what_ Earth is?”

“I KNOW THAT IT IS A WORLD LIKE THEDAS, BUT WITH NO MAGIC. A FELLOW ABOUT A CENTURY AND A HALF AGO MADE THE JOURNEY HERE. HE TOLD ME ALL SORTS OF INTERESTING THINGS ABOUT YOUR WORLD AND WAS A DELIGHTFUL CONVERSATIONALIST. UNFORTUNATELY, HE WAS IN FAR WORSE SHAPE THAN YOU WERE, AND DIED AFTER A MONTH FROM HIS WOUNDS. I HAD HIM STUFFED AND PLACED IN ONE OF THE ROOMS.”

That… was both enlightening and disturbing.

And you still had no idea what he looked like.

“Can… I get closer? I’m mostly blind at the moment and I would like to at least see the man who has been a gracious host to me.” That was tactful, right? Not too flattery?

“DEFINE ‘MOSTLY BLIND’.”

“Right where I’m standing? You look like a massive shapeless blob.”

“YOU ARE ONLY A METER AWAY.”

“And I’m veeeeeeeeeeery near sighted.”

“FINE, BUT NO PAWING!”

You nodded in thanks, stepping closer. You were practically flushed against him when you finally could make out details, but that barely bothered you half as much as seeing Xenon up close.

He looked like he should have came straight out of some horror movie or was a final boss from Resident Evil game. He was big, as though he had been forcibly stretched and twisted out, with more limbs then he should have possessed. This close you could see some of them were attached crudely, others looked as though they were melted on. The flesh itself made him look like a juicy mummy, his chest barely rising, his face twisted in a slack jaw grimace, nose gone, and eyes fused shut.

“…if you make any sudden moves, I will not be held accountable for the screaming and ass kicking that follows.”

Xenon huffed, clearly amused. “THAT WON’T BE AN ISSUE. I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO MOVE FOR TWO CENTURIES.”

“How are you talking? Your mouth isn’t moving at all. And how can you see me? You knew I wasn’t far from you and dressed right.”

“A BAUBLE I WON IN A CARD GAME BACK IN THE STEEL AGE.” Came the dry answer.

You backed away, grateful that your vision blurred with each step away you took.

“BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THAT! EYESIGHT ASIDE YOU APPEAR TO BE IN GOOD HEALTH, AND CAN MOVE OF YOUR OWN VOLITION. I HAVE MUNIFICENTLY DECIDED TO ALLOW YOU TO STAY HERE IN MY EMPORIUM.”

You jolted at that, surprised that he’d just let you stay without you bringing up the subject.

You voiced this, trying to understand his reason. Xenon spoke in a way that felt like a verbal shrug. “IT ISN’T EVERYDAY I GET SOMEONE THAT WANDERS FROM ONE OF THOSE MIRRORS. YOU ARE FROM ANOTHER WORLD, WHICH MAKES YOU ALL THE MORE UNIQUE. I COLLECT ODDIES AND UNUSUAL SPECIMEN, THOUGH ADMITTEDLY MOST OF THEM ARE PHYSICALLY DISTINCTIVE. AND ARE EITHER ANIMALS OR QUITE DEAD.”

Remembering Chauncey the Miniature Bear and Meredith’s lyriumfied corpse in Inquisition, you had to agree on that.

“OF COURSE, IF YOU WOULD RATHER TAKE YOUR CHANCES ON YOUR OWN, I WILL HAVE URCHIN ESCORT YOU OUT. BUT ONCE YOU LEAVE YOU WILL NOT FIND A WAY BACK HERE AGAIN.”

“That won’t be necessary!” You quickly assured him. “I can see a generous offer when its presented before me and I’d be a fool not to except such a kind patron!”

“I THOUGHT AS MUCH. I ALSO HAVE MANY AN ITEM THAT COULD BE USEFUL TO A DISPLACE LADY SUCH AS YOURSELF, AND URCHIN HAS INFORMED ME YOU HAVE THREE ANIMALS IN YOUR CARE AND AS LONG AS YOU KEEP THEM UNDER CONTROL THEY CAN STAY AS WELL. YOU’LL HAVE ACCESS TO MANY INGREDIENTS, CRAFTING, RUNES AND ANY OTHER INTERESTS YOU MAY ACQUIRE DURING YOUR STAY AS WELL HAS A VARIETY OF HISTORICAL SCROLLS AND BOOKS THAT WILL ALLOW YOU TO LEARN ABOUT THEDAS, AND I HAVE PLENTY OF INFORMATION FOR ANY INQUIRY YOU MAY HAVE INVOLVING THIS WORLD.”

This was a surprisingly generous act…

…and you felt like kicking yourself in the rear for looking a gift horse in the mouth, but this was just too good to be true. “What’s the catch?”

“CATCH?”

“Yeah,” you questioned as you folded your arms in front of you. “what do you get out of this, aside from an otherworldly ‘specimen’ that owes you? Don’t get me wrong, it’s an exceedingly kind offer and I’m going to take it regardless, but I want to know what kind of strings are attached. I just want to know if its strings I can use to better myself or if it’s there to hang myself with.”

Xenon make an approving humming noise, voice filled with glee. “EXCELLENT, YOU ARE NOT STUPID. THAT WILL SERVE ME WELL. WHAT I HAVE IS A JOB THAT NEEDS TO BE OCCUPIED. A CARETAKER, IF YOU WILL.”

Okay, not what you were expecting. “A caretaker.”

“YES. URCHIN CAN’T REACH EVERYTHING, NOR CAN HE TALK TO THOSE THAT COULD BE OF BENEFICIAL USE TO ME, NOT TO MENTION IT WOULD BE PRUDENT TO HAVE ANOTHER PERSON ON HAND.”

“Don’t you have more people in your employ besides Urchin?”

“BUT OF COURSE! BUT I NEED A PERSON TO HELP WITH THINGS DOMESTICALLY.”

“What exactly does being your caretaker detail?”

“YOU WRITE FOR ME, READ FOR ME, FEED ME, TAKE DELIVERIES THAT COME IN, HELP URCHIN WITH DELIVERIES, SPEAK WITH OTHERS IN MY EMPLOY WITH MY AUTHORITY, AND EVERY HOUR YOU HELP URCHIN MOISTEN ME UP TO PREVENT SHRIVELING.”

 _Oh god, did he really have to say it like that?_ You cringed but bolstered through.

“Sounds…reasonable.”

“AND I WILL BE INQUIRING ABOUT YOUR WORLD, AND ITS DISTINCTIVE DIFFERENCES. IT MIGHT PROVIDE ME WITH ANOTHER WAY TO ACHIEVE MY GOALS, HAVING AN OUTSIDER VIEW.”

Now that made sense with what you knew about him. Xenon was on a quest for immortality and youth, and only had one of those things. Him trying to dig a new fount of knowledge for the chance of recovering his youthfulness certainly explained his desire to help you out, even if you knew it to be futile. Maye you could even help him sell ideas from your world, like turbines! Or copper wire electricity!

_Oh now I wish I knew what happened to my books, I had so many science ones!_

Xenon was still talking, and you forced yourself to tune him back in, “—AND OF COURSE I CAN AIDE YOU IN RETURNING BACK TO EARTH—”

 _Return? To what?_ You had your puppies here, and if you could get back to wherever the mirror led to you could possibly find your trailer. To be honest, even if your home were lost for good, you could make do.

 _This isn’t the first time you had to rebuild after losing everything_ , you banished that thought as quickly as it came, focusing on the fact that Xenon was allowing you to stay with your dogs, and you had access to an outdoor that didn’t lead to Kirkwall (hopefully). After an adjustment period (and finding whatever was the Thedas equivalent of glasses) you should be able to adapt to life in Thedas in no time.

You had finished your promise to visit every state and now you had nothing to go back to, so why not try Thedas? Plus, it had magic! Even without it, you could study _magic_!

Mind made up, you waited till Xenon had taken a break between words before you ruthlessly dived in. “Actually, Mr. Xenon, I am perfectly happy to stay on Thedas. I thank you for offering your incredible help in returning me, I am quite content to stay here. Besides I… I don’t have anyone to go back to, so really, Thedas sounds like a pretty good place to start a new life. I would be honored though to take up a job offer by such a resourceful soul like yourself.”

“I… SEE.” He said in a peculiar tone before going back to his oddly enunciated yet jovial tone. “IN THAT CASE, DO YOU MIND DONATING YOUR BODY TO THE EMPORIUM? AFTER YOUR DEAD, OF COURSE.”

“Do you plan to stuff my cadaver and set it out like a display?”

“I ASSURE YOU, IT WILL BE MOST TASTEFULLY EXHIBITED.”

Well, that took care of future funeral expenses. “Sure, but you don’t get my dogs.”

And that was how you became a employee of the Black Emporium.

* * *

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a quick writer, so I apologize for inconsistent updates. On top of that, I am technically an "essential worker" so I still work 40-50 hours a week, meaning I don't always have the energy to write. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope this puts a smile on your face as you read it. 
> 
> Have a great day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. I haven't been very motivated or inspired lately, so Thanks to them for the inspiration. Now go visit them and read their works because they are phenomenal.

* * *

“EXPLAIN TO ME AGAIN HOW THIS ‘PLUMBING’ WORKS AGAIN.”

You felt a twinge of a headache, wishing Xenon wasn't such a... enthusiastic speaker. “Was my previous one too strange or complicated?”

“NO, I NEED DETAILS IF I’M GOING TO CREATE THIS THING! IF THIS WORKS LIKE YOU SAY IT DOES, WE COULD FUND MY RESEARCHES FOR THE NEXT CENTURY- WOMAN, REACH LOWER. I CAN FEEL A DRY SPOT.”

“Yessir, Mr. Xenon.”

“AS YOU WERE SAYING?”

You dutifully reached his upper back, gently moistening the withered undead while you patiently explained plumbing again. Your head still hurt from your misadventure and you were certain by how tender it was that there were a lot of cuts under all your hair (the sheer amount of dried blood you had washed out being a pretty damning clue), but aside from cleaning it and taking care of it you could only teally ignore the throbbing pain as you focused.

And he was extremely chatty during these washes. The first time you had to bath him, you very nearly got sick on him, but after doing it every day for six hours you have become very desensitized towards your horrific employer’s form.

Still, you were enjoying the chats and, how did he put it? ‘Cultural exchanges’? Yeah, let’s go with that. It sounded better than ‘withered husk trying to pump you for knowledge’, especially since he answered most of your questions. And you had so many questions! Here you were in a whole new world with one of the oldest living people in the world (okay, he was more of a undead, but without the shambling walk and desire for eating brains), so of course you were going to return the favor and pump this man for all his information!

You have only been here for a week, but what an enlightening week! More importantly to your situation though was the things you had learned about the Black Emporium. During that time, you discovered several things.

First, the Emporium did not have plumbing. In fact, plumbing was a foreign concept in Thedas. You had to do your business in a bucket that you had to share. You had spent most of this week convincing Xenon the value of plumbing and even if he decided not to go through with its creation, you had several ideas on how to make it mainstream because you refused to be stuck with a bucket to do your business in for the rest of your life, so even if your name ended up becoming synonym for toilets you were going to ensure it was made!

Second, Thedas did have glasses, or spectacles as they were called here, but they were expensive and usually reserved for nobility. The ones you acquired had come from some posh noble that only got them because they were all the rage a few years back, so they were more for fashion than helping the person to see. You still couldn’t see far but could make out people well enough to tell the others apart so you would not look a gift horse in the mouth.

Third, Xenon was a fount of knowledge, both valuable and asinine. He had given you an overview of each country and what their political stance was shaping up to be, the calendar, what the months and days were called, and more importantly, what year it was.

It was the second month of 929. That alone had nearly knocked you on your ass. Somehow, you were had ended up in Thedas before even Origins or the Blight was officially a Blight. Right now it sounded like things were heating up politically in Fereldan, as King Cailan was being accused of being sterile and there were rumors he was consorting with Empress Celene, which made you wonder if that had been a thing in the game? Maybe it was in the supplement books like the World of Thedas books you never acquired, but you had been positive that wasn't something mentioned outside of the Ostagar dlc and that it was Eamon who encouraged Cailan to leave Anora for Celene. You were pretty sure the game never made mention of Cailan being sterile either.

And that was just on the royalty front. Apparently there had been kidnappings from noble houses and several nobles from Denerim were crippled, and a cult had formed in the capitol and they were attacking anyone who abused power or people.

And that was just Fereldan, there were similar events in Orlais, Tevinter, the Free Marches and other places.

It hardly mattered as you weren't going to be heading into Fereldan or Orlais anytime soon, and if you did end up leaving it be straight into Kirkwall due to location, and visiting Kirkwall would be preferable if you did it before the refugees started amassing here.

A part of you wanted to do something though about the Wardens numbers though, maybe send Duncan a letter? Direct him towards more than just one Warden potential? It be a long shot but maybe if you made yourself sound like a friend or another Warden he might listen…

A thought for later.

According to Xenon, there has been a lot of discord across Thedas in the last fourteen months that has been throwing a lot of people off balance. A unknown group or groups have been making guerrilla attacks across several countries, and Xenon couldn't confirm whether they were working together or not as all the attacks happens days to weeks apart across Thedas before going silent and then repeating, and were often too far apart physically to be the same group but perhaps working under the same banner.

Fourth, if you needed something you had to talk to the Mute Urchin, the twelve-year-old you had met at the beginning of all this. While Xenon was the boss, the Mute was the guy ensuring everything ran at peak capacity and had access to not only the outside world but kept an account of everyone who worked for the Black Emporium. The preteen could acquire damn near anything if given enough time and information.

Fifth and most importantly, the Mute was not the only urchin in Xenon’s employ. Apparently, your boss would hire a lot of abandon children off the streets, earning their loyalty with food and shelter. There was around twenty-five of them currently, which was about average according to the Mute. They all were interchangeably known as ‘Urchin’, and they all took a great deal of glee in knowing they technically ranked higher than you despite you being the literal only adult in the place (you did not include your boss, as the carcass took malicious glee in having you write wrong directions to the Emporium to people he found distasteful and unworthy, with them often just leading in circles around the Kirkwall sewers).

Now it wasn’t like Xenon didn’t have other adults in his employ, he did retain most of the Urchins when they became adults by employing them as spies, traders, scavengers and whatever other role he needed fulfilled. But you were literally the only adult that had a job inside the Emporium, which led to you having coworkers that were so young most were still in the stages of losing their baby teeth.

You had to fight your urges to baby them all and to march up to Xenon and argue with him for employing child labor. It had been one of the older Urchins who explained that most of them were either orphans or abandoned and felt incredibly lucky to have been found by the Emporium and genuinely loved working here since they had warm beds, two square meals a day and as long as they kept themselves clean and well behaved Xenon pretty much let them run the Emporium, allowing them to set the working conditions and had nothing but glowing praise for the Mute, his ‘head urchin’. The Mute ran the place with an expertise that left you boggling at how well he managed everything. He was the one that gave orders (via sign language or taps that made you think Morose Code) to the others and if a person couldn’t do the job he assigned, he find a job they could excel at. He was the one you reported to and was very patience with you as you learned about your new job.

So as much as you wanted to be mad, you could see the logic behind Xenon hiring children. It made sense since he would acquire a group of loyal people that had been otherwise discarded by society and family and may still be loyal to him well into their adulthood. It may not have been done for altruistic reasons, but that didn’t change the fact Xenon still saved them from the streets and ensured they were fed, clothed and sheltered.

By the timed you finished explaining the plumbing again, you had also finished bathing him. By total majority by the children you had been permanently drafted for Xenon cleansing during the daytime because washing Xenon was mentally scarring, and you don’t blame the kids one bit for throwing that particular job at you.

You stretched as you informed him you were finished. “OH? ALREADY? YOU ARE GETTING QUITE PROFICIENT AT MOISTENING ME UP.” You cringed at that, somehow having forgotten his habit of saying things that sounded like a dirty innuendo. “WELL, GO ON. REPORT TO URCHIN FOR THE DAY. I EXPECT TO SEE YOU FOR MY EARLY SPONGE BATH.”

You rued the day you explained what a sponge bath was, walking at a polite if swift pace to the exit but stopped short. Turning back, you thought for a moment on your request before deciding the worst he could say was ‘no’.

“Mr. Xenon? May I go through the active mirror tomorrow? To see if I can find my things?”

According to most of the kids, it was the only mirror that was ever working, having been open longer than any of the kids (or previous kids) had been there. When you had first inquired about it to Xenon, he stated that it had been off when he first got it and had remained off until the fellow from Earth crawled through it, and the ancient being had theorized that the man had accidently turned it on somehow and it had been on ever since.

None of the children dared to enter it, both out of fear and because Xenon stated if they did go in there was no guarantee they would ever be able to get back.

That made you cringe every time one of your puppies walked through it, but you were certain that unless it broke, it would continue to stay on. You just had to not think too hard on it.

You also needed to go back in, if only to see if you could find any of your stuff. which was why you also added, “And of course should I find my belongings, I will donate all of it to the Emporium upon my inevitable demise.”

“WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU HOPING TO FIND?”

“My books, clothes, trinkets, seeds and pictures.” _And the trailer and truck._ You mentally tacked on.

“ANYTHING HEAVY?”

“The boxes of books, should they be there.”

“HMMM. _URCHIN!_ ”

You jerked at the yell, not having expected him to somehow raise his already loud voice higher. Your head throbbed at the volume as the Mute appeared from behind the door seconds later, and you had a suspicion he had been eavesdropping. Again.

He did that a lot, and Xenon probably knew he did but disregarded it as a problem due to the boy’s inability to talk. But you didn’t need to talk to be able to communicate, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the Mute had his own miniature spy network with how he ran the place.

The boy didn’t spare you a look as he moved to Xenon’s side, tapping at the armrest and you were once again grateful for the spectacles. You couldn’t see jack after four feet, but you no longer had to be invading people’s personal space just to make out their faces now. The Mute was a short boy, with sandy brown hair and matching eyes set in a thin face. You carefully didn’t look at his throat, where a nasty large scar was, knowing he didn’t like people staring at it yet not caring to cover it.

He was also very sassy for a mute, hands on hip as he adopted the Peter Pan pose as his mouth pursed into a look that made him seem to be judging your fashion sense.

“GET A COUPLE OF THE SMUGGLERS IN TOMORROW, I HAVE A JOB THAT REQUIRES ENTERING INTO POTENTINALLY DANGEROUS AREA FOR A POSSIBLE RETRIEVAL. HAVE THEM BRING WEAPONS IN CASE. THEY WILL BE ESCORTING THE WOMAN THERE, SO SHE WILL NOT BE AVAILABLE FOR MY WASHES TOMORROW. DISMISSED.”

The Mute gave a cheeky salute before leaving, again not sparing you a glance.

“Thank you, Mr. Xenon.” You thanked, giving a similar salute before turning on your heel and leaving, ignoring the throbbing in the back of your head as you walked out the door.

The hallway was still as poorly lit as the day you first walked it, but with your spectacles you could see the end now…and if you looked up, you’d see the many, many staircases that led off in this labyrinth of a place. Children where on various levels chatting and moving about, some yelling out orders as others ran from place to place to deliver messages.

Another thing you had discovered was that the Black Emporium was _freakin’ enormous._

The Mute had informed you that the Black Emporium’s true size was a bit of a mystery, as it seemed to both expand and contract in certain places. He hadn’t given you a tour of the place as it would have taken too long, instead he showed you the places you needed to go in order to do your job, the mess hall, kitchens and where your rooms were located. He made it clear if you wanted to explore the place you could, but if you got lost and either died from starvation or ran afoul of any dark artifact that was on you. Same if you got eaten by one of the many monsters or creatures that the Emporium housed.

You were fairly certain that the Mute didn’t like you, as he was always deliberately blank face around you as well as curt in his instructions, though that may just be how he wrote. He also had a habit of either send you on your way as fast as possible or pawn you off on one of the others. Despite this, he was fair towards you, and also let you keep both the Mirror Room and the room adjacent to it. You were reluctant to let the dogs stay in the Mirror Room, but it was the only place that had access to an outside and since they needed that space, you kept them in there. The kids had been fascinated by them and had thrown a bunch of old pillows and bowls for their use and had only tried to steal them a couple of times.

Your room was noticeably big but also very cluttered with things collected over the years. The Mute assured you that there was nothing dangerous in there, but you still were careful when traversing inside.

Maybe once you got the hang of everything, you’d explore.

“Look alive, Oldie!” someone yelled cheerfully, and you barely dodged a couple of runner kids that nearly took you out in their hurry.

You followed where the voice came from, to the immediate staircase that led to the floor you were on. You smiled at the young girl that had called out, recognizing her even from this far by her red scarf.

The Mute had assigned a urchin to you, a small gap-tooth elven girl about eleven years old who went by the alias the Humming Urchin (which turned out to be an apt name, because when she wasn’t talking, she was humming out tunes). She was quite happy to tell you everything and anything, which was great as you have never felt more lost than you had in the following weeks of your employment and you felt no shame in asking her even the dumb questions (hence how you found out about the bucket). When not working directly with Xenon the kids used you for labor or reaching things beyond their grasp.

She trotted towards you, asking about your day as you walked towards your rooms. As you moved on, various children would call out a greeting, all referring to you as either “Oldie’ ‘the Old Urchin’.

That was another thing you were learning to get used to. Every kid here went by an alias, an INSERT-VERB-HERE-Urchin and apparently, they had all voted that your new name was Old Urchin because you were ‘almost as old as Xenon’. Considering most of them were eleven years old or younger and you were well into your twenties you could almost see their reason. You may have not liked it, but you have been called worse.

Another thing you learned was that asking the kids for their actual names was a big no no. The one time you asked the Mute for his name he gave you the nastiest glare you’ve ever seen on a kid before Humming explained that none of the kids went by their old names, if they had names at all. She explained that all the kids had their reasons for not having normal names, hers being that she had been found in the gutters as a babe and rescued by older urchins. She had only ever known the Emporium, and like all the kids saw Xenon as a beloved if weird savior.

She didn’t explain it quite like that, but it was the gist of it.

You had barely reached the Mirror room to check on the dogs when the door swung open, and a pair of kids stumbled out… while holding onto Fezzik.

They had frozen upon seeing you, the smaller of the two wore a too large coat and had Fezzik from behind as the other bulkier boy held onto his bottom paws in an attempt to better carry him off. Both kids looked like they had just had their hands caught in the cookie jar. Fezzik was happily panting in their grasp, tail wagging rapidly between them.

“You wouldn’t be trying to steal my puppy, are you?” you dryly asked, your headache throbbing a bit.

The bulkier of the two smiled winningly as he replied, “What puppy?”

The smaller kid gave the other kid a swift kick, glaring at him for the lame response.

Humming looked disappointed. “You two were supposed to have gotten him out by now. I couldn’t stall her forever, ya know. What took you so long?”

You didn’t feel even slightly shocked Humming was in on this. The kids were all fascinated by the dogs and had tried several times already to steal them. You had been angry at first, but when one of the young kids asked a older one what they were, the older kid said they didn’t know. That was how you came to the sad realization most of them have not even seen a dog in person before, and those that did hadn’t seen _friendly_ dogs. Now you just stopped them, though between Moro and Bojack both being well trained you really only had to worry about Fezzik getting stolen.

Sheepishly they placed Fezzik down and as soon as his paws were on the ground, he scampered over to you completely happy and oblivious to his near dognapping.

“He wiggled a lot!” the big one, ‘Beans Urchin’ if you remembered correctly, complained.

“And the wolf blocked the door!” the smaller one justified, pointing to where Moro was standing next to the door with Bojack in the entrance, both panting eagerly. _Is the small one_ _Pockets or Shady Urchin_ , you tried to remember as Beans groused.

“And Stinky kept farting at us!”

Bojack chose that moment to rip a massive one, reeking the air up as the children all gagged. _Someone has been sneaking him beef, probably in hopes of bribing him away,_ you thought, looking at the kids with an amused smile.

“If you want to play with them, you could have asked.”

The kids stopped their dramatics to look at you strangely. “Really? You’d just let us play with them?” the small one _(Pockets or Shady?)_ spoke, not looking like he believed you.

“Sure,” you shrugged, belly scratching Fezzik. “as long as you returned them in as good condition as you got them, and not deliberately hurt them or take them somewhere dangerous and finish your chores. And asked beforehand.” you finished pointedly at the two would-be dognappers.

“Soooooo… can we play right now?” Beans asked, looking hopeful.

“Do you have any chores left?”

The kids shook their heads. “Then sure. But stay in the hallway for now. Fezzik’s still learning, and the other two prefer to stay close to him.”

You let Fezzik go, patting him over to the trio of perplexingly shocked kids.

Beans looked to Fezzik to you, mouth opening and closing several times before words formed. “You mean it was that easy to get the dog?”

The small kid (you were almost certain this one was called Pockets because of his coat) buried his face in his hands. “We wasted so much time trying to steal him!”

“Forget that, she said we could play with _all_ of them!” Humming yelled before marching over to Moro, patting her knees as her already sweet voice got somehow even sugary. “Come on pretty girl! Imma gonna put so many ribbons in your fur!”

The one you were almost positive was Pockets led Fezzik further out into hallway, pulling out a ball of tightly wined yarn. Soon a game of fetch was going, and other kids were gathering to watch.

Beans was unsuccessfully trying to coax Bojack out of the room. “Come on, Stinky! Come on!”

“His name is Bojack. He won’t come for any other name.” You helpfully told the bulky kid.

Beans frowned for a moment before quietly saying Bojack’s name, as though he wasn’t sure it would actually work. It did of course, and Beans soon had your favorite drool and farting machine playing tug with an old sock. The other children around them closed in, going to each dog to play with.

Fezzik was in puppy heaven, running around as the kids form a line to throw the yarn ball back and forth for the excitable pup to chase, Bojack was winning against various kids who were testing their strength against a fully grown Pitbull, and Moro was sedately laying down as kids started festooning her in ribbons or just petting her thick soft fur.

You smiled at the sight before looking back into the Mirror Room, frowning at the bright blue mirror. You reeeeeally didn’t want to go in but if your things were still in there it would be the Thedas equivalent of a treasure trove of knowledge.

And you wanted your pictures. If nothing else, you hope those made the trip.

Looking back at the horde of children playing with your puppies, you spotted the Mute standing off to the side, smiling in fond exasperation at the other kids’ antics. He must have felt your eyes on him because he looked at you, face going carefully neutral.

You gave a welcoming nod, waving your hand out in an offer for him to play as well. The Mute frowned, hands dropping from hip to be folded behind his back. He raised an eyebrow, pointedly looking to you than kids and dogs in a dismissive manner before turning to the kids.

He clapped three times and a hush fell over the others. He made several hand gestures, including the one Humming told you meant dinnertime, the kids looking unhappy but complying as they scattered, though some stopped long enough to ask if they could play with the dogs tomorrow.

You very pointedly told them they would have to confer with the Mute, but you would be fine with it as long as it was after you finished aiding Xenon for the day.

It didn’t take long to gather the dogs, though it took a while before you got all the bows, ribbons and ruffles off of Moro. Ensuring they had plenty of food and water, you said your good nights to them before making your way to the kitchens.

The kitchens were located further from the main room, and you nearly had a heart attack at the sight of small children precariously hovering over bubbling pots the first time you stepped in there. You offered to cook, which meant once a week you were in charge of dinner. That was the day after tomorrow, but that didn’t stop you from entering in to assist.

Chef Urchin was a portly child of indistinguishable gender and a Scottish-like accent, and they ran the kitchen as efficiently as Mute ran the Emporium, barking out orders to the four others that worked with them.

They were quick to utilize your height and strength, getting you to haul a small roast out of the fireplace and grab the turnips bag off a high shelf before setting you on steaming the veggies.

Soon enough dinner was set in the mess hall, and the kids came thundering in. Dinner was chaos, as usual, with kids reaching across the table to get whatever they wanted, talking with mouths full and laughing away.

You were still trying to teach them manners, and perhaps you should come up with ways to bribe them with doggy time.

 _An idea for another time._ You thought, taking a long sip of coffee that had a minty after taste. Chef must have spiked yours with a restorative, meaning they saw you wincing some time today at the headache. Sweet kid under all that scowls. Maybe you could get them to allow you to make some earth foods?

Definitely an idea for another time.

* * *

Sleep found you quickly enough, and you were standing by your trailer when you refocused.

Sleeping in Thedas was strange. On Earth you were aware you were dreaming yet never truly controlled it with great capability. On Thedas, you felt awake yet the world around you were easy to manipulate.

And you attracted a lot of attention for it.

Most of the beings in the fade kept their distance, staying just outside of your little pocket of manipulated area. You spotted a few Rage, a tiny Pride, one that looked like a lion and a truly massive green multi-legged halla that stayed away from everyone else. With the exception of the halla, you rarely saw the same crowd every night and they seemed to be politely maintaining their distance. 

Others, well…

“Hello,” Hippy the Unicorn Man greeted, sitting by your fire-pit. He came every night without fail. As far as you could tell you accidental invited him to keep coming back after the first night and since he hasn’t done anything, you decided not to chase him off. Really, all he did was ask questions about your stuff and drink your hard lemonade.

You gave a quiet greeting back as you headed inside your trailer, looking a another hard lemonade to drink and for a lava lamp to entertain your guest. You figured out quickly that as long as he had something to play with and ask questions about, he didn’t start prying into your personal history.

Returning with lamp in hand, you noticed a new addition by the fire-pit in the form of… a Donkey. Okay then.

“Hello, I don’t think you were here a moment ago.” You bluntly greeted as you set the lava lamp up.

The donkey looked up at you, eyes remorseful. “You still miss them.”

You stopped your actions, staring at the donkey with your full attention.

“It hurts to think too long on them. They shouldn’t have died. Why-”

“Okay, Eeyore,” you firmly interrupted, “I don’t mind company but if you start dragging them into this, you leave. Got it?”

“…but… you still grieve. The pain still persists.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I will let it consume me.” _Not again, never again._ “They deserve better than that. Besides, life is far too interesting to never be enjoying in it.”

The entity tilted their head to one side before disappearing.

 _A million bucks on that being a Despair demon,_ you thought aggressively as you set the lamp up. You really hope it didn't come back, but were already making plans on how to keep it occupied if it did. Soon Hippy was entranced by the colorful glops and was asking all sort of questions about it, and you answered as you carefully reconstructed the edges of your little area.

 _I should ask Mute or Humming for warding books, just in case._ You decided, sitting across from your immensely nicer companion and spent the rest of the night answering his questions and drinking fade hard lemonade.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay I posted another!! Yaaaaaaaa-zzzzzzzz...
> 
> I think I dissected this chapter like four times. Hope you like it.
> 
> I think I accidentally made the Black Emporium the goth eldritch offspring of Neverland and Hogwarts... Thaddeus teaches potions class every Thursday.
> 
> Not sure when I'll be posting again, so please take care of yourself and be content and happy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. I haven't been very motivated or inspired lately, so Thanks to them for the inspiration. Now go visit them and read their works because they are phenomenal.

* * *

“I swear Chef, it’s the best! Put some honey and milk into it and it’s the tastiest breakfast!”

“And I still say yous is full of it, Serah Oldie.” The portly child replied, crossing their fat arms in front of them with a scowl.

“I used to eat it all the time. Heck, I bought the things in bulk so I could have it for breakfast daily.”

“Oats are for horses, not people.”

 _Here I am arguing with a ten-year-old over what to get for breakfast. Unbelievable_. Was all you could think of as you once more tried to convince the kid to put oatmeal or even oats on the list for Mute to buy.

Breakfast had already passed, and Chef had requested you to help with the cleanup. They had also inquired what foods you’d like to see on the menu, thus leading to you defending your beloved oatmeal from judgmental children.

“How about you let me have it, and I’ll be the only one who eats it.”

“Not wastin’ resources just because you like horse food!”

“Well what about fruits and berries? Like apples, blueberries, oranges or pomegranates and the so on?” Wait, did Thedas have those? Shit, you needed to ask the Mute what types of fruits existed here.

“Fairly certain you made that last one up, but sure. I’ll put fruits on the list, though don’t hold your breath for the oranges. Those are expensive.”

“Well, how about flat bread, tomato sauce, cheese, mushrooms, and beef?”

“…why?”

“I want to make pizza. It’s like a bread dish with toppings.”

“Orlesian?”

“It-Antivian.”

“Fiiiiine. Now shoo, Hummings gonna burst if I make her wait any longer.”

With a defeated sigh you turned to the fidgeting girl by the door, only now hearing her humming.

“Now come on! The others are waiting!” Hummings chirped, pulling you after her.

“The smugglers Mute called in are here! I even know a couple of them.” And before you knew it Hummings rattled off about the various types of jobs Xenon offered once you became too old… which apparently was the ripe old age of fifteen.

Again, you contained your urge to march up to Xenon and yell at him to upping the number to eighteen.

 _No_ , you thought with a deep breath, _shouting Xenon wouldn’t solve anything_. You had been writing down a list, a list of ways to fix this and to make better the kids’ situation. You knew they were doing well, but they could do better. Most of them couldn’t read or write or had basic idea of hygiene. You wanted to make their lives better for when they got “Too Old”, and to do that you wanted to help give them as much of a head start in life as possible.

For now, you gritted your teeth as you focused on Hummings words, her explaining that two of smugglers had been urchins, and those that weren’t were hired on mostly for their discretion. The leader, an Orlesian named Toulouse, wasn’t an Urchin but had been contracted to Xenon for going on forty years and was friendly guy who was exceptionally good at what he does.

 _I may need to come up with an actual name. Knowing the kids, they’ll introduce me as Old Hag._ A sigh escaped as you trudged after the elf girl. Being called Oldie or Old Urchin was funny and you didn’t really have an issue with it, but it would be more prudent to have an actual name to introduce yourself with, especially if Xenon expected you to interact with people from the outside.

The thing was, you had no desire to be called by your old name since you had been named after your paternal grandmother. You couldn’t afford to change it and had begrudgingly kept it out of love towards your father since he had given you the name to honor to his mother… not that the wretched racist old biddy deserved it.

But here you were in another world and you didn’t think any of your family members would begrudge you waning to shed it. Instead you wanted a name that would remind you to never give up hope and to be happy and embrace life. And you had just the name that meant all those things picked out.

Hummings took an abrupt turn and you barely prevented yourself from hitting the corner. Which was a good thing, as the smugglers were right around the bend.

“These are the people who will help you collect your things.” Hummings introduced with a fancy little wave, letting you go.

The eldest, a middle-aged man with grey peppered black hair stepped forward, a friendly smile that lit up his dark eyes. “Hello, I’m Toulouse,” he spoke in a thick French- er, Orlesian accent. He pointed to the two behind him, a pair of dark-skinned elves. “That’s Athim,” the male with white-blonde hair nodded, face set in a neutral expression, “and that one is Wells.” The petite redheaded woman nodded with arms crossed as she seemed to assess you. Next to them a large fellow with a truly impressive mustache stood at attention. “That mountain of a man is Hendrich, an Anders. Don’t mind him, he’s not the, ah, most talkative. And last but never least is my son Jude.”

Athim moved to the side, revealing… a child. The last member was in fact a flaxen-haired scrawny child, with what appeared to be a massive bruise on his face.

Your blood boiled at the sight.

You whipped towards Toulouse, a scowl on your face as you fought to keep your anger at bay. “What the hell?! That kid is hurt!”

Toulouse had the gall to look surprise, looking back at Jude then back to you. “Um… no he’s not?”

Marching up to him you glowered at the faux-frenchman, teeth bared, and you felt oddly warm as your vision perplexingly sharpened as a shimmery blue light surrounds the man. You clearly saw how his face paled and backed up but you were too angry to care. “He is a child with a massive bruise on his face! What precisely has he done to merit such a beating?!”

Toulouse raised his hands in a placating manner, and you could see his panicking expression which only made you seethed, and out of the side of your eye you saw everyone tense—

“He hasn’t hurt me!” a thickly Orlesian child voice barked out, and suddenly Jude was standing between you and Toulouse glaring up at you, oddly reddish shine to him.

“Toulouse keeps me safe and teaches me valuable skills! It tis not his fault you are blind and can’t tell a blemish from a bruise!”

Now that he was closer you could indeed see that it was not a bruise, but a large port-wine birthmark that covered his left eye, shaped similar to a lion’s head- oh.

 _Ohhhhhhhhh…shit._ Your vision blurred, causing you to yank the spectacles off to both better rub your eyes and to hide your embarrassment. Wonderful! First adults you see in a week and already you have accused the leader of beating his own kid up! This was going swimmingly! 

“Ummmmmsssssshe’s kinda _is_ blind.” Hummings spoke up, words rushed. “Those, um, spectacles? Not for show. When she first got here, she couldn’t even find doors without aide.”

“Really.” Jude said derisively, not looking like he believed her for a second as he scowled (or at least you think he was scowling) at you.

“Yup!” Hummings chirped, skipping around to him. “Believe me, she’s even worse without them.”

“Do you take me for a-” Jude snarled before one of the elves, Athim, moved to stand by him.

“Da’len, calm yourself.” Athim spoke in a low gravelly voice, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulders. “She meant no insult; from afar your mark does resemble a bruise, and if she truly has terrible eyesight than can you blame her for getting upset?”

Realizing the kafuffle you just made, you replaced your glasses and swallowed you shame, turning back to Toulouse and gave a bow you’ve seen in game. “I’m so sorry. I… really don’t see well even with them, but that is no excuse for the accusations. Please accept my apologies.”

There was a silence, and you were close enough to the lead smuggler to get a fairly accurate look of his face. He looked surprisingly shocked but got over it quickly, smile returning. “You thought my boy was abused and sought to protect him. I can’t get angry for that.”

“Still, I jumped to conclusions. Please stay for dinner, I’ll help ensure you are all fed…?” You trailed off, realizing if Chef had decided they had enough of your presence, then you wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the kitchens.

Toulouse chuckled, a noise echoed by the other smugglers. “Free food? Who could say no! However I think a proper introduction would be better as we didn’t get your name.”

Turning to look at the other smugglers, you thought you could spot the Mute further away. You smiled at him. “Asha. My name is Asha.”

Athim tilted his head, making a curious ‘huh’ noise.

A loud clapping caught your attention, and Hummings looked pleased to have caught everyone else’s. “Right! You take to the Mirror Room, and I’ll go inform Chef about the extras for tonight! Toodles!” And she was off, bouncing away as she hummed.

“Wait, the actual Mirror Room?” Wells asked, her voice husky. You nodded, directing them to the room.

“If you mean the one full of wall length mirrors, then yes.”

“But… why? Nobody goes in there.”

“I’ve been allowed to ‘rent’ it.”

“Alright, but why?”

“I might have sort of arrived in the Emporium from there.”

That stopped both elves, who you were close enough to see the shock on their faces. They proceeded to break out into a light run, moving pass you and the others to navigate the Emporium with the sort of ease that indicated they have done it hundreds of times. You and the others sped up to keep pace.

“What exactly is the Mirror Room?” Toulouse inquired, looking between Wells and you.

“A room full of mirrors.” Athim replied, dry as a desert.

“Thank you, Athim.” Toulouse’s tone was somehow dryer before redirecting his question. “What I meant is why are we going to a room full of mirrors?”

Before you could answer, Athim had yanked the door open and proceeded to yelp. He dashed away and was nearly half-way up the nearest stairs when Moro leisurely walked out.

“Hi sweetie, I got guest over.” You told your babies, the other two rushing out to greet the people. you scratched Moro’s ears as you looked up, and could see how tense Toulouse and the others were.

“Don’t mind them. These are my fur babies and part of the reason I use this room.”

“That’s… a wolf.” Toulouse said calmly, pushing Jude further behind him and you were pretty sure Wells was mouthing ‘fur babies’ by the way her mouth moved.

“Um, no? Moro may look like a wolf, but she isn’t. She’s only like…one-fourth wolf? I think? The rest are different types of dogs.”

Athim made his way back though he kept his distance even as everyone else eased up. The large man, Hendrich moved forward, holding his hand out. Moro licked Hendrich’s hand, and you were pretty certain the large man was actually cooing at her as Jude tentatively held his hand out to Bojack, to which the Pitbull slobbered all over said hand. Wells looked like she was plotting puppy theft as she petted Fezzik, while Toulouse stayed a respectable distance from the dogs.

“We should get going, yes?” Toulouse said, looking amused at Athim’s refusal to get any closer.

You nodded before looking up at the stairway where you had seen movement. Signaling the kids down, you saw Beans and Pockets with Shady and a few others that you couldn't quite make out due to distance. “Wanna play with Fezzik and Bojack?”

No sooner then you said that, Shady and Pockets picked your puppy up and took him further down the hall, and Beans was calling Bojack who took off after him. There would be a crowd soon enough, so you turned to Jude.

“You can stay here with the others-”

Toulouse interrupted you with a hand wave. “Serah Asha, I understand you are a motherly sort and only wish to keep the children safe, but my son will be fine with us traveling a bit.”

“Oh, right. If you think that is safe?” You stuttered out, opening the door all the way to let everyone in.

The blue glowing mirror easily caught everyone’s attention, and you were close enough to see Hendrich and Toulouse's eyes bulge out.

“Alright, it is showing daylight in there so we should have plenty of time to get where we need to-” you stated, only to be cut off by Athim.

“Fenedhis, you want us to go in _there_?!”

“Maker…” Wells whispered; eyes glued to the mirror. “That thing’s been active since I was an urchin! Nobody ever goes in!”

“Well, that’s where I came out and that’s where my stuff is.”

Toulouse stared at the glowing blue entrance for a good solid minute before turning to Jude. “You are staying here with the other children.”

Jude, staring at the mirror in captive horror, nodded dumbly.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asha is a name with multiple meanings. It means ‘hope’ in Sanskrit, ‘alive’ in Swahili and ‘happy’ in Hebrew, just to name a few.  
> Coincidentally, it also means 'woman' in elvhen... which I think is just hilarious.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. Thanks for the inspiration!

* * *

Walking through the mirror was a lot weirder than you thought. Taking a deep breath, you had marched straight through with a firm stride in your steps, hoping you didn’t reveal just how nervous you were.

A rippling sensation tickled across your skin as you passed through, and you didn’t even bother to stop yourself from doing what Sam once called your ‘heebie jeebie dance’, scratching at your arms to chase away the tingling feeling.

Moro whined, pushing her snout into your side for comfort. You had decided to take her with, both because she could guild you back and should something happen, she was a big scary looking dog that would bite if you were in danger. Your hand sought her out, both to show her you were fine and to stabilize yourself as you drank in the scenery.

The game did not do the Crossroads justice, nor properly showed its colors and sights. The strange circular trees were in full bloom with other viridian colored trees, the many mirrors blinding as they reflected in the sunlight. Beyond that were great ruins that beckoned you to explore them, smattering of colorful flowers here and there among the broken roads that were almost lost to overgrowth.

Startled gasped drew your attention back, Wells and Athim staring around them in gobsmacked awe as they stood next to you. Wells grabbed Athim’s arm, shaking excitedly as the male elf gazed around almost in a trance.

“Maker’s breath!” Toulouse cried out, drawing all yours and the elves attention back to the mirror. Toulouse was staring round him with a pale face, expression panicked. Hendrich didn’t look much better, eyes darting around until he snapped them shut and started rubbing them.

“What sort of place _is_ _this_?” Toulouse uttered, looking very much like he was about to order them all back through the mirror. He swayed on his feet for only a moment, and that was all you needed to rush to his side and make him sit down.

“Are you dizzy? Did the mirror give you vertigo?”

“Vertigo?”

“Dizziness, lightheadedness, feels like your about to faint?”

“No, no. It’s this place, it looks wrong.”

That wasn’t something you expected. “Wrong how?”

“The sun here is strange, too many shadows, even the air feels strange.”

“Humming.” A deep voice spoke, causing you to jump a little. Hendrich looked uncomfortable as he rubbed his arms as he spoke again in a deep German accented voice. “What’s that humming noise?”

You shared a look with the elves, glad to see they were just as lost as you were. Wells marched over crouching down to Toulouse. “It’s not so bad, boss. I’m sure once you get sorted out you’ll enjoy all the pretty colors! I’m definitely taking these flowers home with me, I’ve never seen this shade before,” she reached out and plucked a strange shimmery pink flower and held it up for him to see, “and look! it sparkles!”

Toulouse stared at flower, frowning. “That’s a weed, Wells.”

“Maybe so, but it’s a pretty weed!”

“There aren’t even any flowers there.” Toulouse chuckled, letting Athim help him back up, missing Wells confused and hurt look. bending over you picked a glittering blue one and held it out to her, offering it with a smile. “Toulouse probably wouldn’t be able to tell a flower from a cactus. Men tend to be like that.”

The elf woman smiled at that, accepting the flower as she turned to quietly ask Hendrich if he needed help.

 _I forgot humans don’t see the Crossroads like elves do._ You reminded yourself before frowning at the thought. _But I saw the flowers... and everything else?_ Your hand snaked up without conscious thought and felt at your own ears, suddenly wondering if you had change race without noticing, but nope, still round human ears. _Maybe because I’m not a Thedas human? Questions for later, I need my stuff before Toulouse decides to hell with this place._

Looking from Toulouse and Hendrich to the elves, you nearly jumped at how close Athim had gotten without you being aware, staring at you with probing eyes before addressing Toulouse. “We can go ahead of you, ser. This place is much larger than we thought, and it could take us longer to move her things, especially if it’s a bit a ways out. And if it does take longer, we could call in more people to help. More elf people, as Wells and I don’t appear to be bothered by the place.”

Toulouse shook his head. “N-no, I’ll be fine. Hendrich?” The large man grunted, dropping his hand to his side. “We’ll be fine. Let’s go. Lead the way, Serah Asha.”

Letting out a silent prayer to any entity that could hear you that you didn’t accidentally find guardians or demons, you got Moro’s attention and instructed her. “Find home girl. Find home.” And she took off at a trot.

Following Moro was slow as she wound through the trees and mirrors, never too fast yet still out of reach and you filled the time by getting to know your companions as you took in the scenery.

Toulouse was from a Verchiel and had been raised as a merchant until in his youth he decided to travel the world and found himself working for several companies that needed goods at affordable prices, and eventually found employment from Xenon. This work satiated his wanderlust. He had been married but his former wife had ran off with a dwarf and he had decided to take his young son with him to learn the trade, living in the Free Marches as smuggling was profitable here and it also allowed him to be closer for if Xenon had things he needed.

Hendrich was a former Templar who fled the Order after it was discovered he was sneaking mages out and ruining their phylacteries so they couldn’t be found. He had been in a pretty bad withdrawal when Toulouse found him and helped him recover, and Toulouse could not have asked for a more loyal man to watch his back.

Athim and Wells were siblings, with Athim being seven years older. They had been found by other urchins when Wells was two, begging on the streets of Kirkwall. This led to you asking a bunch of questions about how Xenon cared for the kids, stressing you wanted to make the urchins livelihood better and what would they recommend to better aide them? And what sort of schooling did they think would improve the children’s future?

You were so involved in that conversation you missed when Toulouse asked a question. Startling, you apologized and requested he repeat himself. The older man huffed good-naturally.

“I asked how a Rivaini noblewoman ended up employed to Xenon.”

You must have looked as confused as you felt because he spoke again. “You are plump, have the whitest teeth I have ever seen, can afford gold-rimmed spectacles and speak in an educated manner.”

“She might be a merchant’s daughter, ser.” Athim chimed in.

“And the Rivaini’s tend to be a, ah shall we say, lax towards the magically inclined.”

“Okay, hold up,” you interrupted, stopping in your tracks. “first, I’m not a noble or a merchant— okay, I sold things I made for a living, so I could in the loosest terms be a merchant. Second, I’m not from Rivain. And third, what does the Rivain’s feelings towards mages have to do with me?”

Toulouse frowned, looking to his companions before Wells sighed.

“Boss, she clearly has a Free Marcher accent, and a Dwarven one to boot.”

“But she looks Rivaini…” Toulouse replied, scratching his chin. “You usually only see that shade of flesh from there.”

“She could be someone’s mistress, would explain the curves.” Athim added, causing you to sputter. “Maybe she was raised close to a dwarven populated area?”

“I’m nobody’s mistress- wait, did you assume I’m Rivaini because of my skin color?!” The words seethed out, the world sharpening into focus and anger flickered through you at the racist assumption—

And abruptly Hendrich firmly placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping the tirade before it could form. “Calm yourself, fräulein. No need for spell works.”

Your eyes blurred and you found yourself blinking rapidly, removing the glasses to rub at them. “I’m not a mage, so I can’t do magic.”

Hendrich snorted loudly, patting you on the back as Wells rolled her eyes as she sarcastically countered, “Suuuure you’re not. And you most definitely didn’t set the grass on fire.”

“What?”

That was when you smelled something burning and saw Athim smothering a tiny flame out. 

“What?”

Hendrich frowned again, looking at Toulouse with a questioning expression, his boss frowning as well. “That’s the second time you started smoking, serah.”

“What?” you must have sounded like a broken record, but now the siblings were sharing a look similar to the two male humans. Clarity shined through Athim’s face and he groaned. 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know you did that.” Confusion was evident on your face and he rubbed his visage. “Are you telling me Master Xenon hired an untrained mage?”

You hadn’t meant to shriek, “I’m a _MAGE_?”

That got you three looks of disbelief, and one look to the skies as though Athim was mentally asking the gods why this was happening to him.

“Right, you might want to request Master Xenon for a tutor when we get back. Let’s move on before the not-wolf loses interests, yes?” Toulouse ordered, and we continued our trek.

You stumbled after Moro, not sure what to think of this new development. _Wait, was that why I’m always visited by spirits and demons? Shit, I’m a mage in Kirkwall! Alright, alright, I just have to never step out of the Emporium. Ever. Great plan… shiiiiit._

You decided to think on this later, preferably in your greatly cluttered room with all of your things added inside within easy reach. You refocused on your overgrown path, Moro ahead and stopping every time you stopped.

 _I don’t remember it taking this long to reach the mirror,_ you frowned as the path went deeper into the woods, _but I had also been injured and hungover the first time I made this trip._

After a bit of a walk you found yourself near a dilapidated building, Moro guiding you through a ruined archway before stopping and pawing at the ground.

Reaching her you reached for her paw and pulled away with a bent scrap of metal. One that had your license number. “My plate?” looking back at the good puppy, you spoke softly. “Can you find the car, Moro?”

Her ears twitched, and in a fluid movement took off further within, off the path. It wasn’t long before you started noticing broken branches, upturn earth and scrapped rocks. It honestly looked as though something big and heavy had been thrown through here, and that made your insides squirm.

Moro stopped ahead and barked, letting you know she found it. Or rather, found what was left of it, as you discovered once you got there.

“How did that…?" You whispered as you stared at what was once your truck. It resembled a crushed can more than a truck. By the angle it was in and the path it took to get here, it had not been driven into the massive tree that had finally stopped its trip but rather looked as though someone… or something threw it into the tree. It was now a wreckage of twisted metal and had clearly at one point been on fire if the scorched marks on both it and the tree were anything to go by.

And under it, was a body.

For a moment you just stared at it incomprehensibly, trying to delude yourself into thinking it was a trick, that some sick soul had decided to make a modern day reenactment of the Wizard of Oz, namely the part where the Wicked Witch of the East was crushed under Dorothy’s house as only the lower half of the body was visible _and Mom was crushed beyond recognition, sirens blazing in a distance, broken glass where Dad’s shredded hand laid on top and eyes stared up unseeing, the smell of gasoline over powering the smell of burnt flesh, a pair of small mangled bodies on the asphalt_ —

Suddenly you were spewing breakfast onto the ground. _There was a person under your wrecked car,_ echoed through your mind as you shook. Even after expelling the contents of your stomach you stayed there and dry heaved, only vaguely aware of a large hand holding you up and rubbing your back in comfort.

“Breath, fräulein. Breath.” A deep and thickly accented voice rumbled.

 _Inhale, hold. One, two, three, four. Exhale_ _._

You breathed again, holding and exhaling at the count of four, and recited names. _Samuel, Marna, Riley, Samuel Jr., Philip, Mary, Jonathan, Shiori, Antonio, Roger, Valerie, Henry, Ally, Molly and Janna._

Shuttering, you breathed once more. _Inhale, hold. One, two, three, four. Exhale. Never forget, they can never die if you never forget. I’ll find your name, and I’ll never forget you either._ You mentally vowed.

You had no idea how long you did this nor how long it took for you to regain control but eventually you did. You deliberately refused to look at the body, still shaking as Toulouse and the elves watched you with concerned eyes. Moro’s head was between your hands, softly whining as she sought to comfort you. Looking up found you being held in place by Hendrich, his bushy brows furled in concern.

“I’m… I’m fine. Sorry.” You mumbled the words out, and you barely heard Toulouse reassurance as a horrid thought popped in, _What... what if that person wasn’t the only one?_ Horrified you looked around for the trailer, seeking Moro’s fluff as you looked towards the ruined path that had been made by your truck.

You followed the broken path back to a courtyard with high walls with a pair of broken towers and it didn’t take long to see the vibrate yellow of your mobile... and you promptly sputtered. 

"How the hell?!" You yelled, staring up into the sphere like branches of the tree that was currently holding your trailer up.... which looked like it had somehow been driven into said branches, despite being a good thirty feet upwards. You looked around trying to see how you and the dogs got down from there but didn’t see anything that would have allowed you to get down.

_Then how did we get down from there?_

“Are those… people? Hanging in the air?” Wells asked in an oddly pitched voice, head tilted towards the branches.

For a horrible moment you thought she mend that in a literal hanging sense, stomach churning at the idea. Still you forced yourself to look up… and was both relieved and confused at what you saw.

There were people frozen in the air above your trailer, about a dozen of them. And beyond them a massive black blur, partly hidden by the towers. You couldn’t make out details on the people, and judging by Toulouse face neither could he. _Who are these people? Had others made it through like I did?_

“Wells? What do they look like?” Toulouse spoke, eyes focused on them and the black blur.

“Um, they look sorta Tevinter? At least the clothes gives that impression and a couple of them posh looking ones are holding staffs... though the three elves are probably slaves and two of them are of them seem to be curled around smaller people … some of them don't look Tevinter at all, those two appear to be dwarven, the one closest to the ground looks sort of like a prisoner of some kind and those two look Dalish, right Athim? Athim?”

Athim was staring pass the people, head tilted as if he was trying to figure something out. He started stepping back, further and further before letting out a frustrated grunt and took off shouting he’d be right back.

“He must be trying to see what the black thing is. It’s kind of looks… furry?”

You tilted your head in a futile effort to see it better. “Furry? Like an animal?”

Toulouse scoffed. “That thing is massive, it can’t be an animal. Only dragons get that big and I’ve never heard of a furry dragon.”

Wells rolled her eyes, hands on hips as she looked at him with an expression you couldn’t make out from where you stood. “We have a wheeled house in a tree, people stuck above us as though time itself had decided to stop working for them, while we are in a place that looks like it shouldn’t exist. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is such a thing as a furry dragon.”

Toulouse groaned, rubbing his temples. “Please don’t say that. Knowing our luck, that’s exactly what it is.” The older man dropped his hands, looking at you with an drained expression. “I’m sorry, Serah Asha, but this is beyond my skill set. We’ll head back and explain to Master Xenon and look into hiring people who can… figure all this out.”

“You think Mr. Xenon will still allow us to finish this?”

“Magically time stopped people and long abandoned ruins to loot? Oh he won’t be able to help himself.”

Before you could reply, Athim returned. Or more to say Athim tore through the trees like demons were on his heels... which considering where you were was an exceedingly high possibility. He skidded to a halt, just long enough to grab Wells and cry out, “We need to run!”

“What-” was all Toulouse got out before Athim was shouting at Hendrich to grab the two of you, and suddenly you found yourself under the Anderfel man’s arm like a football and everyone took off and you barely had the breath to whistle for Moro to follow.

The path back did not take as long at the neck-breaking run Athim was keeping, looking back only long enough to ensure Hendrich was still following as he all but dragging his sister behind him, you and Toulouse sharing a look as you were jostled all the way back to the active mirror. Athim pushed Wells back through, motioning Hendrich to hurry. “Quickly! Before he awakes!”

Hendrich dived thorough, Moro landing beside him. The large man dropped both of his burdens, sweat dripping down his face as he wheezed, leaning on his knees.

Toulouse stood shakily up, looking at the distressed elf who was being held by Wells, her husky voice soothingly gentle.

“Athim! What did you see? What was that black thing?”

Athim looked haunted, eyes wild as he clutched to Wells.

“It… it's a wolf.” 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thanks to Celtic_Lass, who helped me solidify Asha's over all character. 
> 
> Asha: A massive black wolf is suspended in some kind of time bubble. Right outside of where my home apparently crash landed into a tree with a dozen people that are predominantly Vints. Is it too much hope these things aren't related? And that giant black wolves are just native to the Crossroads and are not in fact...dreadful?  
> Wells: This.. isn't good. You think the Tevinter's summoned something they shouldn't? And are you okay, brother?  
> Athim: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!  
> Toulouse: Where's the... *spots the children* strongly doctored tea?  
> Hendrich: *grunts in disapproval*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. I have been trying to stay motivated, so Thanks to them for the inspiration. Now go visit them and read their works because they are phenomenal.

* * *

“Why do you drink that? It tastes bitter.”

You held up a finger to postpone further questions, finishing the ale. Hippy, Eeyore the Despair Demon and you were all sitting around your campfire, soft jazz coming from within your yellow trailer. Well it wasn’t _real_ ale, being the fade and all, but all the same you drank it before answering Hippy.

“I like the flavor. Did you like it?”

“No, it tastes like despair.”

“…Them?” You had to ask, pointing to the donkey that seemed to be happily drinking your ale from an oat bucket. ‘Eeyore’ had liked what you called them when you first met and thus, they were now christened after one of your childhood favorite characters.

“No, like you but with misery.”

“Oooookay,” you drew out the word as you conjured an amaretto sour, “how about this one?”

Watching Hippy taste test the fade drink, you recalled your first amaretto sour. It had been your first trip to Nevada, and you had gone to a family owned Mexican restaurant and had asked the bartender to surprise you since you had only truly drank ale and beers at that point and was curious. The atmosphere has been bright, loud, and cheerful and you had gone several times before hitting the road. You couldn't explain why, but you felt that Hippy would like this one, and was proven correct shortly after.

“I like this one!” Hippy chirped, holding the glass out for a refill. “It tastes like happiness and your curiosity!”

 _Huh. Do the memories I associate with the drink changes the flavor?_ Eeyore nudged you out of your thoughts with an insistent whine. “This. I like this. Another!”

You giggled as it unknowingly quoted the God of Thunder but complied after only a minute of hesitance. If the drinks were flavored by the experience, then hopefully feeding a despair demon a drink you usually had when feeling melancholy wouldn’t hurt.

Looking out beyond your bubble reminded you that you were not awake, and that there were spirits and demons watching you. Mercifully, none were in the form of a wolf. That thought soured your drinking, taking in the ones still out there. There was an exceptionally large Rage that was an odd blue color, a red bear, a massive rat-thing that looked like it escaped from the Fire Swamp, and five more that were a hybrid of various animals.

And of course, the massive green multi-legged halla that circled your area. That thing was the size of your trailer and had jagged teeth and milky eyes. That one was starting to worry you a little bit because unlike the others, it was always there when you arrived and when you left, constantly watching far from the others. The only good thing about it was that it never got closer. You decided not to bother it unless it started encroaching towards you.

Still, you saw no wolves and took that as a good sign that none have been seen since the horrifying discovery a week ago.

Athim hadn’t said it, hadn’t breathed a single word to the others when he calmed down enough to give a complete if edited report, one that sounded legit to anyone unaware of Dalish lore but you knew he knew _who_ was discovered hanging in suspended animation like a massive furry and angry black moon.

Solas, the Dread Floofer was right outside your trailer. You knew it was him, because once Athim informed everyone that the wolf had at least five eyes, a possible sixth that might have been closed but as the wolf had been suspended in a way that made it look like he had been attacking or fighting _something_ before getting froze in place, Athim had very sensibly noped out of there as fast as he could. You were just relieved he was stuck in some kind of time bubble, one you reeeealy hoped he wasn’t awake in (no one deserved to be aware in a time suspension, and frankly no one wanted a half insane person with untold power on their hands).

And judging by the way the male elf kept glaring at you for the next three days, you had accidently showed that you knew who that was even without Athim saying who the wolf was.

Athim kept trying to catch you alone after that, but you found ways to have others around you, even taking your time to wash Xenon. Sadly this only lasted three days before he caught you in the Mirror Room feeding the dogs.

You admit, looking back on that conversation it was a miracle you managed to convince him that you were an complete and total idiot.

_Moro sat between you two, Bojack growling low as Fezzik look between you in puppy confusion. Athim was blocking the door, white knuckle grip on the door as he kept looking at the dogs in discomfort but refusing to budge. He focused angry accusing eyes on you._

_“You know who that is out there.” Athim snarled, his eyes burned in a way that practically dared you to contradict that, shimmering in a way you weren't entirely sure was normal._

_“A very big wolf.” You stated, refusing to lie but knowing you couldn’t admit it out loud._

_“Say it. Say his name.”_

_You felt… something wash over you, a compelling need to say ‘Solas’, like something slow and sticky was dripping down your body and caressing, urging you to speak. The world sharpened and became brighter, and something… surrounded both the elf and dogs, a shroud of light._

_The dogs were a white color but Athim was purple, and slowly changing to red. It was only a moment, a flash so fast you’d have missed it had you blinked, but his eyes had flashed with something dangerous that lurked beneath his face._

_“Please tell me the wolf’s name.” Athim’s quiet yet firm voice requested- no, politely demanded, the slugging feeling dribbling down you again._

Say his name, say his name, _something chanted in your head as something louder and much more persistent screamed at you to say any thing else—_

_“Fluffy McFlooferpants!” You snapped out, and suddenly the dripping sensation died out abruptly, Athim’s angry face breaking with sheer disbelief._

_“…what.” He stuttered out, the reddish-purple light shifting back into a lighter purple with sparks of blue running through it._

_Realizing what you just said, you decided to just role with it. Shrugging, you spoke again. “I call him Fluffy McFlooferpants. He is a pure-bred Pride fadewolf, a bit on the small side as I suspect he was the runt of his litter, and yeah he’s scary looking but he’s really a good boy who I fully intend to give belly rubs and boop his nose as soon as I am certain he won't bite my arm off for touching him.”_

_Athim’s face was a study of disbelief, confusion and something undefinable as his face twisted into a weird sort of expression, like he had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling. “what?”_

_Something told you to be truthful, you couldn’t explain why, but it felt very important. Running a hand through your curls you groaned in aggravation at your situation. “Look I get that Fluffy McFlooferpants is a literal giant wolf and that I probably should have mentioned something, but in my defense I thought he had gone to the Fade or Doggy Heaven_ ,” I can’t believe I just called Uthenera doggy heaven, _“not prove he's alive and had somehow followed me when I crash landed into a tree during a drunken escapade that I don’t remember,”_ which reminds me, I may need to figure out how to watch memories in the fade to figure _that_ out _, “but you shouldn’t judge him for that! Sure he makes a mess of a lot of things, and I wouldn’t put it pass him to have accidently pissed the fade into existence and he is a prideful little shit, but deep down I think he is a good doggy.”_ There, a truthful if not very honest telling.

_Athim was staring incomprehensively at you, looking very lost, a strange shutting sensation rippling through you, the lights disappearing as the room darkening and blurring._

_“That’s not- do you really-” he cut himself off as you blinked rapidly at the returning blurs. “Are you telling me you truly believe that thing is a harmless ‘doggy’?”_

_“He’s a good doggy.” You repeated, sincerely. Though you knew that 'doggy' was anything but harmless._

_Athim ran a hand through his white hair before giving a short bow. “I seem to have been mistaken about something. My apologies.” And without further ado, left the room._

Since then he kept staring at you in both in suspicion and exasperation. You’d take it over that creeping hostility, especially since you had found out he is a mage... and after examining that entire encounter, you were pretty certain he had done something to you that made you want to spill secrets. This left you with no desire to spend any time alone with him, which he seemed perfectly happy to oblige and kept at least one person between him and you at all times.

The only thing the two of you had agreed on was Athim not teaching you magic when Xenon suggested it, Athim stating his branch of magic was not a publicly acceptable one and you rejecting it because you didn't trust him.

Speaking of Xenon, the immortal carcass was overjoyed at the news of ruins, time magic, and that apparently you had a mobile home that he was going to get on the ground as soon as he got more people in, and get a team of builders to try and replicate the trailer as soon as possible. You sensibly decided not to inform him on the finer parts of a modern trailer until you could get a hold of your books, especially Mom's science and how-to Dummies ones, and even then you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to introduce Thedas to the Industrial Era when they were still stuck in the Medieval Ages.

 _At least the plans for the toilets are approved,_ you mentally snarked as Hippy and Eeyore requested more drinks, a new flavor for Hippy and more ale for Eeyore.

The new crew Xenon hired was due in tomorrow, majority being Kirkwall smuggler elves after Toulouse explained his and Hendrich reaction to the Crossroads. You hoped they didn’t follow the elvhen pantheon or Athim wasn’t going to be the only panicking elf.

Consciousness tugged at you just as you gave your drinking buddies more, and with reluctance you bid them goodbye and welcomed morning.

As with all mornings, you were sore from the sleeping on a mound of blankets in the corner of the room that was yours. “I want my couch back,” you grumbled, stretching out with various pops. The Mute had gotten you an bed but the thing gave you the willies as it looked like a giant skull with teeth and runes carved into the ivory. He had found it in one of the rooms meant for storage, and you had decided you did not want to see if it was a normal if opulently gothic bed or if sleeping there would devour your soul or something equally bad.

You had two outfits, and tomorrow was wash day. That was not going to be fun as medieval washing was hard and painful on the hands. Inventing a nicer way to clean clothes was going right next to your goal for indoor plumping.

You looked around the dim room, hoping you could make out the clothes. There were no natural lights in here, and Mute had giving you candles with strict instructions not to damage anything in the cluttered room. The room was big, but very cluttered with various things Xenon had collected over the years. Still, you estimated that you’d be able to fit everything in here, so it wouldn't be that different from living in your trailer.

Your couch was going in here by hook or by crook.

Dressing in the cleaner of two outfits, you left the room, mentally thanking Mute for putting you right across from the Mirror Room. The dogs were piled on top of their pillows, easy enough to see from the glow of the active mirror and the reflections. The light was dimmer and nothing could be made out when looking through it, telling you that it was still hours away from daylight.

Suppressing a yawn, you meandered to the kitchens. Chef was in with Cookie and Pudding and Dough, a trio of elves ranging from eight to eleven, the portly ruler of the kitchens grunting at you with a wave towards a cutting board, none verbally ordering you to slice the fruit and that your coffee was right next to it as an incentive. Suppressing a yawn, you went about your job as you looked around the unusually quiet kitchens.

The kitchens were massive, allowing for at least three dozen to comfortably do anything in here without fear of bumping into each other. They seem excessive but perhaps back when the place was first made, Xenon had an entire staff fit for the pompous noble with far too much money to throw around. Now Chef and a rotating shift of children manned this place.

You had just finished the apples when a blur out the side of your eye moved. Squinting into the dark corner, you saw glimmer thanks to the fire light and the outline of a body as they creeped up towards Chef—

“Don’t even think ‘bout it.” Chef barked out, not bothering to turn from the bacon but causing the young elves to look around, suddenly alert.

A giggle was heard, and a tall scrawny boy that wore a ridiculously large hat and a shorter one seemed to melt out of the shadows, swaggering in a way that allowed you to identify the first person in question.

Dirty Urchin was a shifty crook, and you had quickly figured out that he could and would browse through your pockets without your knowledge and the only time you could catch him was when the dogs were nearby because your babies barked up a racket every time he tried to rummaged.

He also seemed to have a personal enmity towards water and soup or any form of cleaning products, resulting in him covered in a thick layer of grime that made his skin look grey.

And if Dirty Urchin was here that would make his buddy—

“Shady!” Pudding yelled, and a pan hit the floor, the resulting clanking deafening in the early hours of dawn. Chef hissed, swinging around with a large metal ladle like it was a bat, only to drop it upon seeing Shady looking contrite as Dirty got between them, smiling disarmingly.

“Sorry, we just got off a shift!” Dirty spoke with an accent you couldn’t quite place, tugging his hat on tighter. “Not all the way awake, ya see.”

Then Dirty spotted you, and you didn’t need to clearly see his face to see he was not happy to see you. He was almost as tall as you (not a hard feat as you were five foot nothing), and if it wasn’t for how young he looked you’d have thought he must be one of the older kids, possibly even close to ‘graduating’ from Urchin to whatever profession he chose. He tipped his hat in your direction with a curt nod. “Old Urchin.”

You were pretty certain he didn’t like you because of the high crime of trying to get him to clean up. You held the damp rag out, hoping he’d use it to clean his face but the boy leaned out of your reach, scowling fiercely from under his hat, a scowl you firmly returned.

“Morning. Now wash your hands and face.”

“No.”

If a month ago someone told you that you’d be having a staring contest with a grungy child that made Pig-Pen from Peanuts look clean, you’d have probably told that person you were cutting them off and shuffling them to the poor sober grunt that was their ride.

Then again if that person had also told you that you would have accidently passed through time and reality in a drunken stupor you’d have more than likely figured out what they were having and start drinking to speed up the process.

But in the now saw that you were indeed having a staring contest with a filthy boy because the kid refused to at least wash his hands.

Chef was of no help, smirking as they fried bacon. They appeared to be having some kind of bet going on with Dough, but you didn’t look away to check.

“Oh come on, at least wash your hands. Your even dirtier than usual!”

Dirty didn’t touch the cloth, but Shady did. With a tired yawn he grabbed it, watching his hands…and now that he was closer you could see that both were dirty (or dirtier in the tall hatted boy’s case).

“What have you been doing? Your almost as filthy as he is.”

“Had an overnight shift in the lower levels. The rest of the group went straight to bed. They’ll be back for lunch.”

“What is all over your face?”

“Dirt. Slime.” Came the curt answer, causing Chef to groan.

“Yous two been in the Bowels?”

“Yup.” Dirty answered, popping the ‘p’.

“Then git out of my kitchens the both of ya’s! No trampling that nasty shit in ‘ere!”

“Language!” you scowled, only to get multiple looks of amused disbelief.

“Really? What are you, two?” Dirty sniggered before yelping as Chef smacked his wandering hands away from a fresh bowl of cut apples.

“Be nice to Oldie! Not her fault she’s going senile!”

“Love you too, Chef.” was your dry response as Cookie shepherded the filthy boys out and Chef directed you towards the eggs that they wanted cooked.

Soon enough breakfast was done and set on the large table, children showing up in various stages of grogginess.

Some of the more awake kids were chatting away, discussing everything and anything, Mute had arrived when you weren’t looking and watching on in fond exasperation when one of the younger kids tried to steal a sausage from his plate (‘tried’ being the optimal word), and Shady was trying to keep Dirty from falling asleep in his eggs.

Toulouse and his crew wandered in, Hendrich looking tired as Athim and Wells were already deep in conversation, and Toulouse was guiding a sleepy Jude to the table. The Orlesian man stopped at seeing you serving food and smiled brightly. “Good morning, Serah!”

You returned the greeting, feeling almost bad for his crew because Toulouse was a morning person who expected his workers to rise and shine with him.

Soon enough you were sitting between Hummings and Pockets, happily munching the food and smacking any hands that wandered near your plate.

“What is that your drinking, Serah?” Toulouse asked from across the table, staring at your cup. Or rather the inky goodness inside.

“Coffee.” Was all you said, happily drinking your beverage.

Toulouse scratched his stubble, looking interested. “I don’t think I’ve heard of that before.”

Hummings, who you suspect to secretly be the Patron God of Random Facts, stopped her conversation long enough to answer. “It’s from Par Vollen, and it’s really nasty. Mute, Chef, Gem, Socks and Oldie are the only ones who drink it.”

You hadn’t known Mute liked coffee… though you had been aware about Chef, as the first time you had playfully taken their coffee away they had wiped out the biggest ladle you’ve ever seen and threatened you with it. Cookie suggested that you only pretended to steal their coffee after Chef had at least a cup in as they were mean before that first cup.

“Oh, I remember that drink. It’s disgusting.” Wells added, Athim nodding in agreement.

“May I try?” Toulouse inquired, pointing to the metal pot that kept your precious brew. With a shrug you agreed, having decided to watch the reaction as Toulouse poured himself and Hendrich a cup.

It was just as good as you thought it be, Toulouse face puckering up in disgust as he spat it back into the cup. “That… is vile.”

Hendrich had sipped his, snapping his lips before tasting it again than shrugging. Wells looked up at him with a amused smile. “You like it?”

“I’ve drank worse.” Hendrich rumbled, keeping the cup.

“I agree with Wells, that was disgusting and I cannot fathom why you drink it.”

And that was the end of it,Toulouse and Hendrich starting a one-sided conversation, as Hummings was telling some kind of story to the deeply intrigued group of children, Wells scarfing food in so fast that Athim was telling her to slow down before she choked.

Pockets tucked your sleeve, looking determined as he got your attention. “Mute wanted you to know that Master Xenon need to talk to you and that it will take a while, so you’ll be washing him during your conversation.” Pockets informed you with a shudder. You thanked him, and once was done eating set for the main entrance for Xenon’s wash/talk.

“OH GOOD, YOU ARE JUST ON TIME.”

“Glad to be punctual. Should I start at the lower back or the legs?”

And that was how you spent the next hour, gently moisten up a shriveled corpse as the two of you discussed your plumbing ideas. You had given a rough sketch of how they worked but wanted your books for better reference, and Xenon had already started doing inquires for supplies.

Then the bastard dropped a bomb on you.

“You… want me to what?” You asked, pausing in the wash because surely he hadn’t said that…right?

“I WANT YOU TO PUT YOUR PLUMBING IN THE BLACK EMPORIUM.”

“Uhhhhh…”

“I SEE YOUR STRUCK DUMB WITH MY BRILLIANCE.”

“of… course. But Mr. Xenon, could you… explain your brilliance to me as I’m struggling to truly wrap my brain around this… massive undertaking?” Half a month here has taught you that flattery got you everywhere with Xenon.

“IN YOUR WORLD, PLUMBING IS EVERYWHERE, YES?”

 _Yes and no,_ you thought but nodded instead.

“YOUR DESCRIPTION OF YOUR WORLD MADE ME THINK IT WAS FAR MORE DEVELOPED THAN THEDAS, HAVING DISCOVERED WAYS TO CHANGE THEIR MAGIC-LESS WORLD AND ADVANCE IT PASS ANYTHING I’VE HEARD. I HAVE DECIDED THAT WE’LL BE SLOWLY INTRODUCING EARTH WAYS TO THEDAS, PERHAPS USING THOSE ‘AGES’ YOUR WORLD HAD. THIS CENTURY WE’LL START WITH PLUMBING AND OTHER SMALLER CHANGES, BUT BEFORE WE DO THAT, I HAVE TO ENSURE IT CAN BE DONE. ALL MAJOR PROJECTS ARE TESTED INSIDE THE EMPORIUM BEFORE INTRODUCED TO OUR PROSPECTIVE BUYERS, AND CONSIDERING THE ENORMOUS UNDERTAKING OF THIS I WISH TO MAKE SURE WE HAVE ALL OF THE… HOW DID YOU SAY IT? ‘KINKS’ OUT OF THIS BEFORE APPLYING IT OUTSIDE.”

“Ah. I… see.” _He wanted to test run the plumbing before actually putting too much into it._ That made sense, nobody wants to waste money of a investment that goes nowhere. “But the whole Emporium, si-Mr. Xenon? The Mute said they still didn’t know the whole size of this place!”

“NOT THE WHOLE PLACE, JUST THE ENTIRE LOWER LEVELS AND UP TILL THIS FLOOR. SO ONLY ABOUT SIX OF THEM.”

You refrain from screaming at him. As much as you wanted to be angry, you could honestly understand his reason. But this was a massive undertaking, requiring going to those levels, figure out where to place the piping and how sturdy those places will be, breaking floors and walls, figuring out how to run a staggering amount of piping to the a able body of water, purifying water for use, and, and, _and she needed Mom’s How-To Dummies book collection_. 

“I… am going to need those books.”

“THEN IT IS A GOOD THING WE HAVE PEOPLE COMING IN TO HELP IN THAT ENDEAVOR.” Xenon replied dryly before changing the subject. “I HAVE ALSO TAKEN IN YOUR REQUEST THAT WE CUSHION THOSE PEOPLE NEAR YOUR ABODE. IT HAS MERIT, AS I DON’T WANT THEM TO HIT THE GROUND AND DIE BEFORE I CAN EXTRACT THEIR ORIGINS AND USES.”

You grimaced at his words. You had suggested to get the people down and to place them in cushions because you had no idea if they would still be feeling the effects of falling, and you didn’t want them to die because they had been experiencing terminal velocity at the time of the time freeze. But of course, your boss saw this as prevent himself from not acquiring knowledge. Whatever, at least the people would be safe when they awoke.

 _But what if Solas woke up with them?_ Before you could go down that rabbit trail, Xenon’s boisterous voice smacked you back into the present day.

“TOULOUSE HAS REQUESTED YOU TO GO WITH HIM ON AN ERRAND TODAY. FEEL LIKE LEAVING THE EMPORIUM FOR A FEW HOURS?”

You almost said ‘hell no’ but stopped yourself. Now would actually be the best time to visit Kirkwall as it was before the Blight, refugees, blood mage serial killers, racist Mother’s, Qunari, red lyrium Meredith and outbreak of war. If you were ever going to pay a trip to Kirkwall, now was the time.

“Alright, sure. Sounds fun. What is the errand?” You probably should have asked that first.

“HE IS GOING TO TALK WITH ONE OF THE TWO ELF GROUPS I’VE HIRED. APPARENTLY, _SOMEONE_ ,” you shivered at the menace in his voice, “DECIDED TO STEAL THE MONEY I HAD SENT TO ATHENRIL. HE WILL BE TALKING TO HER ABOUT AN ALTERNATIVE PAYMENT PLAN AS I HAVE SOMEONE ELSE _CHAT_ WITH THE THIEF.”

 _In other words, Toulouse is smoothing things over as I send someone to kill the person dumb enough to steal from me._ You mentally translated, frowning. “Why did he ask me to come along then? I don’t have experience with something like this.”

“I KNOW YOU DON’T BUT I THINK HE FEELS CONCERN OVER YOU SPENDING ALL YOUR TIME IN HERE, OR SOME OTHER PATERNAL REASONING. I WILL ALLOW IT, AS I DON’T THINK HE IS FOOLISH ENOUGH TO TRY AND STEAL YOU.”

“Ooooookay. How thoughtful of him.” And of Xenon, as he has all but stated he trusted him enough to return you to the Emporium. “I hear Kirkwall can be interesting, so why not?Can I bring one of my dog’s with and when am I’m expected back?”

“TOULOUSE WILL RETURN YOU BEFORE DINNER, AND I EXPECT YOU TO DO TWO OF THE EVENING WASHES SINCE YOU WILL NOT BE HERE FOR THE REST OF THE DAY. YOUR ANIMALS WILL STAY THOUGH. _URCHIN_!”

You jerked back from his sudden shout, and from the corner of your eye you watched Mute turn the corner. _Eavesdropping little busybody_ , you thought fondly as the boy tapped away on Xenon’s throne.

After a brief conversation that involved tapping and Xenon overly long instructions, Mute nodded and took off, only to return with Toulouse and his crew not long after.

“Master Xenon, we’ll be heading out now.”

“EXCELLENT, AND I HAVE ALLOWED THE WOMAN TO GO WITH. BUT YOU BETTER BRING HER BACK JUST THE WAY SHE IS!”

“But of course, Master Xenon. Serah Asha?” Toulouse held hand out, smiling in a way that made his crow’s feet even more evident. “Allow me to be your guide to Kirkwall.”

With a nervous smile you took his hand, praying to whatever entity that was listening to you that this trip proved uneventful.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surely nothing weird will happen, right? Pretty much none of the companions from DA2 are there, no Qunaris and the templar's weren't going to pop out and cause trouble, right? And besides, what are the odds you run into someone you know? ...right?


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

Know that sheer anticipated terror of a roller coaster? That was the feeling you were having as you exited the Emporium…. No, that wasn’t right. Roller coaster were rarely dangerous, and the dread was just the adrenaline turning the fear of danger into excitement because you knew even as you dropped and twisted at insane speeds that you were safe.

This was more along the lines of standing atop of a skyscraper but on the wrong side of the safety rail, clinging tightly with the knowledge that one wrong move or loosen grip will ensure you become terminally intimate with the pavement below… yet thrilling in a way only a truly life threatening situation can be.

Morbid, but as you let Toulouse guide you through Lowtown Kirkwall, it felt really apt, though maybe it was just the fear and excitement of leaving your safe haven that was getting to you… especially since _leaving_ was almost as difficult as _finding_ it, according to Wells.

“Remember those doors when we left the main area? Those led to different parts of Kirkwall. We’ll take one of them to get back in, Boss just needs to meet up with some business partners before leaving Lowtown, hence why we’re going down here.” She explained, pointing to the pendant Xenon had given before you left. “Don’t ever loose that, or not only will you be locked out you’ll never find your way back. Nifty little thing, can guide you right back to the emporium if you open it.”

Upon arriving to Lowtown marketplace, Toulouse gave Wells some money and told her to show you around and buy a souvenir. Athim wasn’t happy about it but didn’t verbally contradict Toulouse. Hendrich though handed you a small knife, rumbling that you should still be armed no matter what to which Toulouse agreed before shuffling you two off.

It was still morning, the sunlight casting shadows across the high buildings of Lowtown and the air stunk of sea water and a tangible sort of misery that no one wanted to acknowledge.

Yet it didn’t stifle the sheer excitement that was the simple fact you were standing in Kirkwall, trying to find something that was familiar yet enjoying the architecture of the place.

“Have you never been to a city-state?” Wells inquired, smile dimpling.

“Nope! But I’m more excited over being in Kirkwall!”

“This place? There are better places to visit, with less walking angry metal pricks.”

“Yeah, but… I used to have these stories, and in the, uh, second story Kirkwall was the place it took place in. It was about this champion and their crazy adventures, but it was one of my all-time favorites and had these characters I just loved.”

“Must have been a good story to make you want to visit Kirkwall.”

“Yeah. Had the biggest crush on the dwarf rogue.”

Wells snickered, leaning into whisper. “Don’t tell Toulouse that. He thinks dwarves of money lusting wife stealers.”

 _Oh, right, they told you Toulouse’s wife ran off with a dwarf._ You thought as a mischievous smile found its way on your face. “Well you know what they say about dwarves. Hell of a size difference.”

Wells raised a brow, silently indicating she in fact did not. “Size difference?”

“You know,” you giggled, holding your hands apart wide while wagging your eyebrows. “Siiiiize difference.” Wells blushed, eyes widening s she joined you in the gigglefest. It might not be true, but when was the last time you had a girl talk? 

You would have continued to make her blush had you not backed into someone, lost balance and fallen backwards, barely catching yourself on the stall. Craning your neck back, wincing when the person behind hit the ground heavily with a string of curses.

“Sorry! Are you alright, sir?” Turning to face the man, you nearly flinched back at the furious icy blues glaring up. The angry eyes belonged to a blonde dwarf in red and brown leathers. You went to help him back up but he shoved your hand away, snarling at you to watch it before shoulder checking you hard enough that you fell down with a yelp. A flash of regret passed by his face before he turned and stormed off, leaving you there.

“Rude,” you muttered as Wells helped you up.

“Still got the knife and fake purse?” Once you nodded, she shrugged. “Don’t take it personal, guy’s probably a bad-tempered mercenary. You know what I do to improve my mood?” She asked, grinning widely as she held up the money Toulouse gave. “Buy myself nice things with my boss’s money!”

It effectively improved your mood, looking through the various stands until you found a tailor and proceeded to buy yarns, threads, needles and one crochet hook, already planning to make the children gifts and maybe the smugglers should they stick around.

Looking around, you spotted Wells still haggling with a dwarfen merchant, so you wander a bit further, drinking in the various shops when you turned the corner and froze.

There in the middle of the road was a pair of templars. Neither had noticed you, and you started backing up when the shorter of the two held out a filthy puppy in the other templar's face.

“Please Knight-Lieutenant! I promise I’ll take good care of her!” the templar begged, the puppy wagging happily.

“I’m sorry Vernon, but Knight-Commander Guylian had banned animals for a reason.” The older templar answered though he didn’t look happy to be telling his companion this.

“B-but if I don’t take care of her, who will? She’s weighs so little and clearly needs care!” Vernon pleaded, lips trembling as the puppy turned in his grasp to lick his face. “Ser, if I leave her here, she could die!”

The dark-haired man sighed as he rubbed the back of his head. “Then find her a place to stay. But you can’t keep her. I’m sorry.”

You were barely aware of your moving towards them, holding out a hand. “Um, sir?”

Both men turned towards you, the dark haired looked to be in his early thirties and resigned and the other, a teen that was close to tears.

“I can care for her. I already have three fur babies back home and I’m always up for welcoming more family members.”

The older templar face scrunched up a little as he mouthed ‘fur babies’ but the teen looked doubtful. “Are you any good? Will she be fed equally? Get plenty of affection?”

“Yes, and more. Between myself and the children in my employer’s, she’ll be one of the most pampered pooches in Kirkwall.”

The young templar chewed on his lip, looking torn before giving a shuttered sigh. “I guess I can’t refuse. I’ll just have to trust that you’ll keep your word, Serah…”

“Asha. And you are?” you asked, smiling warmly at him. _He can’t be more than eighteen…_

“I’m Vernon and the is Sa-”

“Raleigh!” a shout stole everyone attention, a third templar walking briskly towards them. “We are needed in at the docks! One of ours was found unconscious there!”

“Understood!” Raleigh barked back, motioning the teen to hand the puppy over. Vernon did, still looking like sad but no longer like he was going to cry.

“Goodbye, Rosie. Be good alright?”

Raleigh ushered the young man away, nodding in thanks to you before following after the third templar.

The moment they round the corner, Wells appeared next to you and slapped the back of your head, hard.

“What were you thinking, talking to the templars?!” she hissed, glaring at you as you rubbed your head.

“Ow! Take it easy, the young templar needed someone to care for the puppy…” you trailed off, holding the squirmy fur baby. Studying the new family member, she looked old enough to be weaned and was underweight but seemed healthy enough. A quick bath and some food and you’d have to gently introduce her to her new siblings, though judging by the size of her paw she wasn’t going to be a big dog.

A yelp escaped at a well-placed smack from Wells. “You almost got discovered over a mutt?!”

“Rosie’s not a mutt!”

“Maker, you’ve already named it?”

“Actually, the templar did. And besides, why would they suspect I’m anything but ordinary?”

The elf woman groaned, dragging you back the way you came. “You don’t act like the everyday woman and are too well cared for to be ‘ordinary’. The templars probably thought you were some merchant’s daughter or wife, but that won’t stop them if you accidentally set something on fire.”

“I’m sorry, but the young man was clearly distressed, and I was there to help him. And now I have a new family member!”

Wells gave an unamused look. “Dogs don’t count as family, Serah.”

“As these dogs are all I have, yes they do.” It might have been said a tad harsher than necessary, but you stood by your choice… stupid as it was. taking a deep breath, you continued. “I am sorry for worrying you. Next time I won’t wander off to far.”

Wells face softened, letting go of your arm. “Please do so.” A puppy yip drew her attention, and the young woman petted the dirty pup with an amused smile. “Alright, I can see why you took her, she is adorable. Though not so adorable that she could buy my silence.”

That amused smile turned slightly predatory, causing you to back away. “So how mad would Toulouse be with my detour?”

“Not at all if I don’t tell him.”

“Ah, and what could I do to acquire you silence?”

Wells smirked as she folded her arms. “Tell me what you did that got my dear brother in a tizzy.”

Um?

“Define what you mean, please?”

“He was giving you the stink eye and now keeps looking at you like there’s a puzzle he needs to solve. That or he’s got this look on his face like he thinks you are the biggest moron he has ever encountered.”

“Oh. Um, I maybe kinda sorta told him that massive wolf outside my home is named… Fluffy McFlooferpants.”

 _I wonder if I could call Solas that to his face and walk away from the encounter._ You thought as Wells stared incomprehensively for a solid thirty seconds before letting out a peal of laughter.

“You… called…” Was as far as she got before doubling over in laughter, holding onto you for support.

“He’s a good doggy.” You repeated the words you said to Athim, blandly. This just made Wells laugh harder, her grip on tighter as she struggled to remain standing.

That was how Toulouse and the others found you two, Wells cackling in the marketplace and pretty much only standing thank to holding you hostage. When he saw the puppy, Toulouse inquired where she came from, and Wells good-naturedly informed him that they acquired Rosie from a sad young man who wasn’t allowed to keep her.

 _I’ll make her a hat_ , you vowed as Hendrich cooed at Rosie, Athim keeping his distance as he quietly spoke with a mirthful Wells, who only stopped talking to her brother long enough to inform Toulouse she heard that templars were by the docks.

Before you knew it noon rolled around, Toulouse making plans to do one more stop further in while getting something to eat from the shops. Whatever he had been saying was completely deaf to you as you spotted an awfully familiar sign and must have made a squealing sound because everyone abruptly stopped and looked at you.

Flushing, you held Rosie closer as you pointed to ahead. “Can we go there?”

Toulouse’s smile actually dropped, looking at the Hanged Man with horrified bemusement. “No. Absolutely not.”

You made a pathetic noise as Toulouse continued. “Serah Asha, there are finer… and cleaner, establishments in Kirkwall. A lady such as yourself shouldn’t grace such a place.”

“But I’ve heard so much about it!”

“From that series you read?” Wells piped, in smiling knowingly.

“Yes! It’s where my favorite character resides!”

“Character?”

“Um, he’s a, uh, charming rogue with a silver tongue.”

Wells made a funny face before giggling. “Ohhhh, it’s _that_ kind of book.”

 _What kind of book?_ The question was on the tip of your tongue when Athim groaned in disgust. “Creators, I did not need to know that the two of you shared the same taste in literature. On that horrifying knowledge, Wells and I will be going to the Alienage.”

“Ah, yes, you had requested that hadn’t you? Well, be back before the night lamps are out.”

Toulouse had barely finished talking before the elf siblings took off, Athim tugging his sister along. Toulouse chuckled before frowning. “Yes, my friend?”

Hendrich gave a significant look between you and the Hanged Man, Toulouse frowning. “I said no.”

The large Anders snorted.

“It’s disgusting in there; she’ll catch something for sure.”

A bushy brow raised challengingly.

“No, don’t look at me like that. I’m not going in there.”

A rumble.

“You? Well, I guess…and if she learns from it, all the better.” Toulouse turned to you, rubbing his stubbly chin. “Hendrich will take you there if you still want to. But I’m sure you would rather a nicer-”

“Thank you!” the words were squealed, hugging Toulouse before grabbing Hendrich hand and running to the Hanged Man, or at least trying to. Hendrich was both taller and heavier than you, and the quiet fellow huffed in amusement as he allowed you to tug him along.

Someone exited, holding the door open as you and your companion entered. The first thing you thought was that Toulouse was right, the place was filthy. Just utterly filthy, with poor lighting, suspicious puddles and loud obnoxious people and drunks. Hendrich directed you to a free table, and you grimaced at the grime on it, holding Rosie close to keep her from getting dirtier. The chair was dirty but doable, and you vowed to bribe the washer crew for some actual soaps, as there was a stench of stale ale, vomit and body odor that permeated the air.

Yet somehow, even the sheer disgusting filth didn’t ebb your excitement that you were sitting in the Hanged Man. Hendrich nodded towards the pub, motioning a drink to which you nodded, albeit reluctantly. If the drink were of similar quality, you’d just reimburse Hendrich for it.

Looking around the place was clearly meant for either the criminally inclined or people who were just too apathetic to care, everyone firmly not minding anyone else’s business. _Odd, the way Varric told it you couldn’t spit without someone getting in a fight. Maybe a slow day?_

You did recognized a face, though sadly not of the Kirkwall Crew variety. Near the stairs was the rude dwarf from the marketplace, glaring down at another dwarf who looked like he was about to piss himself. The rude blonde yelled “ _When_ will he get back _here_?!” before anything else he said was lost in the overall ruckus of the place, barely drawing anyone’s attention away from drinking.

A loud noise that could only generously be called singing broke the air, a red-faced man caterwauling his heart out, sloshing his drink as he half-hazardly left his chair.

The man continued his off-key singing stumbling along before running into your table. You scooped Rosie up and glared at the shit-faced man. “Hey! Careful!”

The drunk seemed to finally realize there was someone at the table, and even Rosie looked unimpressed when he leaned on it and gave what he probably thought was a charming smile that only highlighted how red his face was.

“Heeeyyyyyy pretty lady! W-why don’t I get ya a drink?” The drunk slurred, blinking at you in a way that gave the impression he was trying to wink but couldn’t control his lids to do so.

“I’m not interested.” The words were said firmly and loudly, back straight and hand not subtly dropping to the knife Hendrich had loaned you in hopes it would discourage him. Back on Earth you only rarely had to deal with this, the bars you went to being pretty on top of keeping drunks away from girls that just wanted to drink. Still, if you had to you could deal with it.

Drunks weren’t a coordinated lot and didn’t think to keep their vulnerable parts protected. Still you hoped he wasn’t so far gone he couldn’t be reasoned with—

“Aw, come on sweetheart! Jus’ a drink as we get to know each o’er!”

\--nevermind, you may need to kick his ass. That ‘may’ quickly jump to ‘definitely’ when he grabbed your arm and tried to pull you out of the seat and there was Hendrich marching towards you—

A large hand snaked out pass you and grabbed the drunkard’s arm. A yelp and suddenly the guy was a sprawled on the ground, clutching his arm where you could already see a bruise forming.

“What part of ‘I’m not interested’ did you not comprehend, you nug humping duster?”

 _Rude dwarf?_ You thought, the guy you ran into in the market stepping between you and Mr. Grabby.

The drunk man got to his feet, looking like he was going to attack your unexpected rescuer when the dwarf casually dropped a hand on one of his blades. Mr. Grabby stalled at the sight, looking torn between avenging his wounded pride and not getting stabbed. The dwarf spoke in a bored tone.

“Please come swinging at me. I’m in a foul mood and would really like an excuse to stab somebody.”

That apparently was enough of a deterrent for Mr. Gabby, who tripped over his feet to get away. The dwarf tsked, grumbled, “Thought so. Sodding waste heap.”

He turned, about to walk away when you spoke up. “Thank you.”

Icy blue eyes stared back, looking you up and almost immediately dismissing you in the same breath as he scratched his intricately braided beard. “Didn’t do it to save you, he was getting on my nerves. Besides, I have a weak spot for dogs and didn’t want the poor thing to lose its owner. Now that that waste of meat is gone, I’ll just be going.”

Looking pass him, you shook your head at Hendrich before addressing Icy-blues.

“At least let the damsel that you rescued from distress get you a drink.”

The dwarf sneered, about to speak and you held u a hand. “Not trying to flirt here, just paying back. So if you aren’t busy, pull up a chair and let me buy you a drink from this fine establishment before you go off and terrorize other dwarves.”

“You’ve clearly never drank in this pisshole before.” Icy-blues snorted but sat across from you. “But if you’re buying, I’m not saying no to free drinks, Rivaini.”

“Urgh, don’t call me that.” the words were spoken with a over the top shudder, Hendrich plopping the drinks down as you pushed your drink in front of the blonde. You nodded in thanks when he produced a bone, encouraging Rosie to take it.

Icy-blues raised a gold brow questioningly, taking the offered drink. “Oh?”

“First off, I’m not from Rivain. Second, that makes me sound like some fake snake oil salesman or a slutty pirate admiral.”

A dry chuckle escaped the dwarf as he drank, face glowering at the drink before shrugging. “If you say so, Curly.”

“Now that makes me think a pretty boy templar.”

“Pretty. Boy. Templar.” He deadpanned, golden brow lifting again. Hendrich chuffed, looking down at you in amusement as you suddenly remember his previous occupation as a templar.

“Yeah, like the kind you make stand around looking all pretty and throw to Orlesian nobility like some gorgeous human sacrifice.”

“Uh-huh. And what about this guy?” the blond pointed to Hendrich.

“He’s my friend.”

“Friend as in ‘we go way back’ or friend as in ‘I pay this guy to keep the low lives from touching me’ friend.”

“Uh, the first one, sorta. I can defend myself.”

His eyes dropped to where your knife was, sipping his drink with a considering hum. “If you say so. Now to the important question.”

The dwarf leaned in, eyes hard as he pointed to your puppy. “What is this precious darling’s name?”

Thrown for a loop, you stuttered out the puppy’s name, and you watch in amazement as those cold eyes melt at seeing the puppy. “Rosie, what a pretty name for a pretty puppy! And you are a pretty girl, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t stop your jaw unhinging slightly at the sight of this hardass looking mercenary baby talking Rosie, the puppy happily licking his fingers. “Yes you are! Just got her, did you?”

“Uh, yeah. Got her this morning from a templar.”

A loud _thunk_ of a tankard was heard, and you winced at the hard stare Hendrich was giving you. Icy-blues laughed at the sight. “Ah, your friend didn’t know that. Do you know what kind of breed she is?”

You picked Rosie up to examine her, not to avoid Hendrich eyes burrowing into you. “She kinda looks like a Pomeranian and Terrier mix.”

“Huh. Haven’t heard of those before.”

“They are pretty popular back home.”

“If they are half as adorable as her, I can see why.” He drained his tankard, standing up. “I have to get going. The sodding idiot I was looking for isn’t even here right now, so I need to check his other loitering places.”

Nodding, you stood up and held Rosie out for him to pet, which he gleefully did. “Well, it was nice meeting you. And thanks again for stepping in.”

The dwarf gave a surprisingly charming smile as he gave a little wave and a wink. “Thanks for the drink, Damsel. Maybe we’ll run back into each other again.”

It wasn’t till later did you realize that you didn’t know Icy-blues name. It was possible you would have remembered this sooner had Hendrich not reported exactly how you acquired Rosie, and you claiming Wells wasn’t aware as you had told her the whole sad fellow not allowed to keep her story. Really, you only remembered this fact halfway through Toulouse lecture that dwarves should not be trusted and that no matter how glorious their beards or overall scoundrel aesthetics, they should not be trusted especially romantically.

Wells wagging her brows with the biggest shit eating grin over how you had met a dwarven rogue that you found charming made you want to blot the whole thing from memory, and Athim was in rare alignment with his least favorite human in getting Wells to stop and press everyone back the Emporium.

All in all, a productive day in the City of Chains.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Life is kinda... rough right now, this is a difficult time of year for me and I've had a lot of mental health issues that happened because of it. Thank you for being patient with me, I'm not gone and things are hard, but it will get better. 
> 
> Enjoy and let me know if you can identify any of the people I've introduced!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. I haven't been very motivated or inspired lately, so Thanks to them for the inspiration. Now go visit them and read their works because they are phenomenal.

* * *

_Right, so that thing is getting closer,_ was the most recurring thought you’ve been having as you planted green beans and pretended not to notice the massive green monstrosity lurking closer than before. Standing up and stretching, you moved to the side to inspect the rapidly spouting beans while allowing for a more surreptitious view to study the giant halla as you took a swig out of your hard lemonade.

You gave it kudos, it was being subtle about its movements. Though the downside was it was being _subtle_ , and the only reason you started to realize it was getting closer was when one of the wisps fled from it because it got too close. It was also the first time you noticed just how _many_ legs it had, eight long and almost spider like, its milky gaze perplexingly focused on you.

 _I’m going to Athim and asking him how to ward my dreams,_ you thought, humming out ‘We Are The Champions’. He may not like you but if you told him you were starting to get worried over unwanted visitors while you slept, he’d help. You just had to ensure you didn’t accidently cut out your other friends.

Speaking of your friends, Hippy was by the campfire bent over a book and Eeyore near him. It has been a calm night of figuring out the limitations of your control here as you kept Hippy’s attention and curiosity on learning new breeds of dogs with the donkey demon sedately drinking despair-flavored ale.

And next to them drinking coffee from a comically long bendy straw was a ten-foot-long nurse shark. You had almost tripped over them and had nearly pissed yourself at the sight of it, but as they only asked for a drink and hadn’t even bothered to move so you complied. You weren’t entirely sure why you gave it coffee, it just felt right and was proven correct as they clearly enjoyed the drink. They were very mellow and sleepy sounding, looking less like a beached animal and more like a sunbathing house pet.

Morning tugged at you and with a final farewell you opened your eyes to a dark room with a light weight of a puppy sitting on your chest.

Rosie was an instant hit among the kids, who were very excited at having another puppy to play with (the downside was she was small enough to smuggle out, but the kids for the most part did not try to steal the fur babies after you informed them that Rosie wasn’t house broken yet and they would need to clean up her crap if that happened).

Moro and Bojack were distant with their new sibling, while Fezzik seemed uncertain what to do with this tinier dog. Rosie for the most part kept her distance from the other dogs, probably wary of them. You were very careful with their interactions, wanting the dogs to get used to each other before leaving her with them, especially since Rosie was going to probably only be twenty pounds at most once she grew up, making her by far the smallest of your children.

Taking Rosie to the Mirror Room, you ran her and let her do her business, Fezzik following her at a distance as Bojack lazed near the active mirror, Moro by your side. The air on this side was fresh and earthy, wind caressing the green trees as you gazed at the ruins that still beckoned you to explore them, the sky changing colors in greeting to the sun.

Walking back in you nearly ran into Beans, who appeared with a dog dishes full of food. He had become your self-volunteered (and Mute approved) dog caretaker, switching with Pockets every other day as both were very interested in caring for your fur babies and listened with rapt attention on everything you had to say about dog care.

You were very grateful for it, as you could (for the most part) trust them to care for the dogs while you worked, be it washing Xenon, cooking in the kitchen or manual labor with the older kids that took care of shipments.

And with your plumbing project and retrieval of belongings, you had a feeling that you would be needing Beans and Pockets to help care for them a lot in the future.

Once you instructed Beans on keeping an eye on the dogs interactions, you headed for the kitchens to both acquire coffee and aide the grumpy dictator of the kitchens in feeding everyone.

Breakfast was an interesting affair as Chef had made triple the amount of food because apparently one of the smuggler crews being hired arrived during the night and the other was due in early morning.

The dining area was swarmed with dozens of elves, a buzz of conversations renting the air as you and the children set the tables and Chef coordinates where the food went. Wells seemed to be in her element as she seemed to somehow hold five different conversations at once, Athim was off to the side talking to mages, Hendrich and Jude seemed to be listening intently to Hummings and several of the younger kids who was very animatedly telling him some facts or just a story, Mute was by the door with swiftly moving hands informing several of the kids something (and judging by the pout on Dirty’s face it was an order to bath), and Toulouse seemed to be having a friendly conversation with a pair of elves that appeared to be in charge of the other visitors.

Chef gave the permission to dig in, and children and adult alike flooded the table, the children surprisingly behaving (though you spot where Dirty snuck in with the other anti-bath kids).

Athim waved you over before you had the chance to sit down, pushing food in front of you as he introduced Palhen, Tavel and Shaelle. You sat across the table from them and forced yourself not to squint at them in a vain hope to see them better. “They are a healer, entropy and primal specialist. Since it is going to take us several days to possible weeks to get everything out of that tree and rescue those people, they have agreed to teach you some basic spells.”

“Can’t you teach me healing, since that is supposedly your specialty?” You were actually perfectly fine not being taught by the grumpy prick, and only asked for clarity sake.

His eyes flickered oddly, like a light that had turned on and off quickly as he shrugged. “I could… but unfortunately I think you are a idiot and would set your patients on fire, providing you didn’t get eaten by your beloved Fluffy McFlooferpants or accidently get captured by the templars because they were handing out free puppies.”

“Hey! The templar thing only happened once! And I didn’t get captured!”

“Fluffy What-pants?” the possibly oldest of the trio if the grey hair was anything to go by, Shaelle, asked at the same time Tavel, the brown haired one inquired about the templars.

“Yesterday, _this_ mage walked right up to a pair of templars because one of them was holding a puppy.” Athim explained the latter question, causing the trio to give you looks that varied between disbelief and sheer incredibility. “As for the latter… well, you’ll get to see _that_ when we get there.”

“But for today,” Athim pointed to you, “you will be following Shaelle. She’ll teach you the basics in primal as you keep accidently setting things on fire.”

“Not as often as you make it sound.”

He gave a rather flat look. “You set your shirt on fire last night before dinner.”

You flushed under the unimpressed looks of your new teachers.

“I was only trying to light a candle, didn’t think it be hard.”

Shaelle leaned forward, squinting. “What do you know, spell wise?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing.” She repeated, befuddlement clear on her face. “Girl, how old are you?”

“Twenty-four.” You mumbled, suddenly glad for the poor vision for once.

“Maker, why haven’t you gotten any training yet? Or managed to avoid the templars this long?” Pahlen finally spoke, disgust clear in his voice.

“I used to live in a place that didn’t have templars, and I only found out like a week ago that I was a mage.”

Palhen scoffed. “You must be very obtuse not to notice that, especially if you keep setting things on fire.”

“Pahlen, _be_ _nice_. You didn’t see the shock on her face when she found out.” Athim admonished, surprisingly coming to your defense. “It may sound absurd, but I do believe she never knew until then, so kindly treat her as a student.”

Pahlen looked like he wanted to reply but Shaelle cut him off. “And we will. Now, Asha was it? How soon would you like to start?”

“As soon as breakfast is over, please?”

“Very well.”

Shaelle looked like she wanted to add something but turned her head to the side, looking pass your head. “Serah Toulouse, I presume? Athenril has spoken of you.”

“Ah, my reputation proceeds me.” Toulouse’s cheerful voice sounded behind you, a hand clasping on your shoulder. “I do apologize for the interruption, but I need Asha here to meet with your boss and my replacement for this endeavor.”

Thanking them for their time you left with Toulouse, just outside the dining area where the two elves he spoke to stood. The first was a woman with a jaded expression, her leather armor looking well used and maintained. She looked you up and down, brown hair swaying as she did while Toulouse made an overly flowery bow.

“This vision of loveliness is Athenril.”

The lady gave a curt nod. “Well met.”

You had the distinct feeling she had measured you and found you wanting.

“And this tall, dark and scary fellow is Samahl. He leads the other half of the smugglers and has most graciously agreed to go in my place as the Crossroads makes me physically ill.”

The man was taller than you and perhaps taller than Toulouse though it was difficult to be certain as he was slouching, black eyes assessing you. You were close enough to see that he was missing his left ear and had a heavily scarred face, an angry scar cutting through his face like a flesh colored lightning bolt.

And on that, was a somber grey vallaslin in the design of Sylaise.

_Oh boy, Dalish. He is going to freak when he sees Solas._

“This young lady is Asha. She’ll be with you as this is her belongings, and Master Xenon is most eager to aide her in acquiring her things as well as the strange wagon thing she calls home.”

“So you have told us, along with people that are frozen in place.” Athenril said, tone neutral.

“Yes, Master Xenon wants them as well. Safely brought to the Emporium in hopes of figuring out how to restore them.”

Toulouse pushed you forward, looking encouraging.

You gave the Thedas bow-greeting, flushing. “Um, nice to meet you both.”

Athenril nodded again as Samahl grunted.

Toulouse motioned the three of you down the hallway, taking the path to the Mirror room. Looking back at the Dalish, you chewed your lip for a minute before deciding to warn him.

“Um, Mister Samahl?”

The tall elf turned just enough to show he was listening.

“I don’t know if you were informed but there is a, uh, exceptionally large wolf in the Crossroads. Like, dayum he’s big. He’s frozen like the people are, but I thought you’d like to know since I know Dalish don’t really like wolves.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I don’t follow the Dalish.” The man finally spoke in a dismisses tone, a deep gravelly sound.

Toulouse shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ manner before speaking. “Serah Asha, are the dogs in?”

“Nah, Beans and Pocket have them.”

“Oh, good. That will make this easier.” He chirped, opening the door.

Two sharp gasps escaped the duo, and you studied their reactions.

Athenril looked like she was about to crawl out of her skin, eyes wide and griping her dagger tightly and having stepped back from the glowing mirror.

The scarred Dalish on the other hand looked like he had just found the way into El Dorado.

* * *

Athenril and Samahl quickly mobilized the smugglers, Toulouse and Hendrich waving as you joined them.

The Crossroads was just as beautiful as the first time, vibrant and breathtaking. You really hoped your back up pair of glasses survived the trip, mostly because you were sick of not being able to see far and partly because you wanted to see this place in all its glory.

Athenril quickly got her people going, telling them to sightsee later and motioned you to lead the way, Samahl barked out orders to his, setting people out to check the ruins for valuables.

Shaelle had found you and promised to start the basic once they got there, Athim not far from where you walked as he spoke with Pahlen, Wells and Tavel speaking to another group.

You were near the front of this move, having been voluntold by Athim to act as the guide to the trailer. Athenril was traveling beside you, asking questions. “Do you know which mirror you took to get here?”

 _I don’t think I got here through a mirror,_ you thought as you shook your head. “Not a clue.”

“Toulouse did say you don’t remember how you got here. He even said that your home made the trip too?” Athenril asked, face as neutral as her voice.

“Yup. My mobile home is here and stuck in a tree.”

The woman stared in what might have been bewilderment. “And you have no idea how it got there? None?”

“Nope. Please understand, I was reeeeally wasted at the time.”

“Wasted?”

“Um, drunk. Like blacked out drunk.”

“Huh. I know a guy who would pay to hear how that happened.”

“Him and me both.”

You avoided the path that lead to your crumpled car, but not before asking Athenril and Samahl to retrieve the body under it so you could give them a proper burial. You may never find their name, but you would ensure their remains were cared for.

Resolutely you continued, and soon enough you were back where your stranded trailer was.

“So those are the people,” Athenril stated, the look of bewilderment still in place.

“That’s not all. Best get this out of the way.” Wells called out, dragging Athim away. Many of the elves started following, some motioning others to follow. 

And soon there was a cacophony of raised voices, a few panicked cries, at least one shriek of terror as roughly six people fled pass you and the leaders, looking like the devil himself was hot on their heels.

You took a deep breath and marched over to where Wells and Athim was, Samahl and Athenril following after.

Solas was not on the ground, in fact he was closer to the top of the trees. You couldn’t help but think he was even more terrifying, blurry as he was. You could make out five red eyes, one paw stretched out in a arch as though to strike an invisible foe, body twisted like he had made a sudden turn midair and was angled as though he was being thrown.

“Athim,” you started dully, eyes on the massive wolf’s maw… and whatever was in it, “what is that?”

“It appears to be a dragon’s head, bitten off at the neck.” Came his equally dull answer, face pale, eyes shimmering and looking ready to throw his sister over his shoulder and run like a bitch back to the mirror.

And all around you were gaping elves, looking every possible emotion associated with shock, fear and awe who also looked awfully close to saying ‘fuck it’ and fleeing for the exit after those smart six deserters.

One of the elves proved to have an impressive voice projection as they yelled, “Maker’s breath! what is that thing?!”, which was echoed by many others who stared mostly in incomprehension at the massive black sun that was Solas.

“That,” Wells spoke, voice pitched high and maniacally cheerful, “is Fluffy McFlooferpants. Asha’s fadewolf fur baby.”

You barely managed a denial when Samahl made a choking noise that was somewhere between a hacking cough and an aborted laugh. Finally, he spoke in a strangled voice that dripped with sheer disbelief,

“You named him _what_?!”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually cut this thing in half, as it went on quite a bit further. The good news is that the next chapter will be posted either the 25th or the 26th.
> 
> I'm actually enjoying Asha's interaction with Athim, wasn't expecting to grow so fond of him. Asha might have acquired an ass of a older brother who loves picking on her but doesn't like it when others try to.
> 
> So quick question: should I start including other peoples pov's? While I think it would be fun and flesh out more of the story, I also want to try and keep going with just Asha and try and see if I can still do it just from her view. Thoughts?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. I haven't been very motivated or inspired lately, so Thanks to them for the inspiration. Now go visit them and read their works because they are phenomenal.

* * *

The first day was mostly spent mostly meditating, Shaelle poking you between the eyes every time your mind started to wander. You conceded to the meditation only because the actual retrieval was being postponed by Athenril and Samahl, as Athenril had to plan with the experts they brought on how to get to the trailer without compromising it and Samahl had to go retrieve the people that fled while speaking to the mages on the possible ways they could retrieve the people still hanging in suspense.

By the time dusk descended, Athenril had a working plan to first check how stable the trailer was in the tree, and if it was solid to start building a chute from the trailer to the ground and gently slide your things down. Moving the trailer was going to require a great deal more planning, especially since Xenon was paying her to keep the damage minimal.

Samahl’s people retrieve was taking longer, as one brave idiot had tried to climb the tree and drag the nearest person down physically but lost his footing and was only saved from hitting the ground because he had a death grip on the frozen meat popsicle that was still hanging around your trailer like a morbid Halloween decoration. This poorly thought out rescue did yield results though, as the time stopped person started to sloooooowly descend downwards with the added weight, thought they themselves didn’t move at all.

Even though you were far enough away to not see it clearly, there was something comical about watching a young man cling to for all intents and purposes a living statue, all awhile screaming like a little howler monkey to be saved while slowly floating to safety, finally landing with a sheepish countenance once it occurred he wasn’t in real danger.

You hadn’t a chance to get close to the frozen person, but Wells did inform you that the person was a human blonde male, mid to late fifties, and according to her might very well be a prisoner judging by the fact he was filthy and poorly dressed with his hands tied in front of him.

 _Where was I before I got here that caused the Dread Egg, a bunch of Tevinters, two dwarves, a five elves and a potential prisoner to come along for the ride-_ “Ouch!”

Eyes snapping open, you were once more being glared at by Shaelle who had yet again jabbed you between the eyes. She scowled as she ordered, “Focus and find your aura.”

“I’m trying.” You tried not to sound petulant.

“Try harder. I can practically hear your thoughts wandering.”

Finding your aura turned out not to be easy, and you still hadn’t found it by the time Athenril and Samahl called it a day. Tomorrow you requested to help with the actual move once the chute was up, getting several funny looks from a lot of elves but was granted this so long as you listened and did as you were told.

The elves called it a day and headed back to the mirror, Samahl having his people set camps by the entrance as he and the more adventurous elves had decided to camp out here in order to be close by for further scouting of the Ruins and so they didn’t have to sleep in the Emporium while Athenril and the rest gratefully took up the makeshift guest rooms the urchins had set up.

Toulouse cheerfully greeted you, practically stealing you away from Shaelle with an audacious flirt towards the older elf as he maneuvered you down the hall and into the kitchens, telling you with faux sadness that Hendrich had been kidnapped and forced to work in the kitchens by its short despot.

Chef did not deny this, explaining they needed a tall person since you were busy and had drafted Hendrich into being the tiny kitchen tyrant’s minion. The large man good-naturedly went along with it, looking amused at the bossy chub of a child.

“Oldie!” Chef barked, pointing to a small mountain of freshly delivered foods. “Yous ingredients for that bread dish are in!”

You squeaked in delight, darting to the pile to look through everything. Flour, salt, oil, and- _yes_! Yeast! Everything you needed for the dough!

Further digging revealed tomatoes, olives, mushrooms, salted beef and three large cheese wheels that smelled like gouda. You couldn’t stop the grin on your face if you tried.

“Chef! Thank you, you are amazing!” You squealed shamelessly, running up to the portly child. The kid went from their usual scowl face to mortified blushing as you picked them up and hugged them, swinging them around. This caused them to start smacking your arm and loudly demanding to be put down or they would hide all the coffee.

You giggled at the blushing scowl they shot you as you put them down, the young one placing their hands on their hips as they sputter indignantly, Scottish-like accent thicker with embarrassment. “Jus’ fer that yous git to make that dish for dinner t’morrow! Yer great ole hag head!!”

They probably meant that was a punishment, yet you couldn’t be angry. You were going to have pizza!

“Well,” Toulouse replied from where you left him, looking amused, “I don’t know what you plan to cook tomorrow but if it causes that sort of delight, I’m most curious to try it.”

“It’s pizza!” You replied happily, taking stock of what you had and mentally measuring how much you were going to need to feed three smuggler groups and twenty-five children.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of that dish before.”

“It’s flatbread with toppings! I’m going to make some with beef, a plain cheese and one with a bit of everything for variety. I’ll make more of the plain cheese ones though because it’s a tried and true one to use, especially since nobody here has had it before.”

“Was it something you invented for your family and decided you liked it enough to keep making it?”

You couldn’t stop the gigglesnort that escaped. “Nah, it was made by a I-Antivian baker I think, and it is extremely popular back home. Though people have taken it to creative heights by putting all sorts of toppings on them! Some normal and disgusting! My Dad and brother used to eat they’re pizza with pineapple on them, which was just gross.”

Toulouse made a interested noise and looked like he was going to speak when the kitchen door flew open, Hummings running pass with a maniacal laugh escaping her, followed closely by a angry Jude who appeared to be shrieking in Orlesian at the young elf.

Hummings led the furious boy on a merry chase around the counters until Toulouse intervened by grabbing Jude up, hands firmly planted under his arms as Hummings took this to escape, laughing in a manner that strongly reminded you of Sera.

 _She’s going to be a hellion when she grows up,_ you thought fondly before studying Toulouse and his squirming son.

Father and Son were an interesting contrast, Toulouse tanned and peppered black hair, Jude pale fleshed with flaxen blond. Even personality they were different, as Jude had none of his father’s charm or good-natured temper. It reminded you of how people looked at you when you were out with your own father so long ago as you had not taken after him in looks, though Mom and Uncle Phil often told you that you were similar to him in personality.

“Mon fils, crie est inapproprié.” Toulouse admonished gently.

“Ce stupide fille m'a fait trébucher! Laide lapin-” was as far as Jude got when his father suddenly dropped him to the floor and turned him around swiftly, face going from amused to stony in an instant. You didn’t understand French, or whatever version of French Orlesian was but you had a feeling Jude had just said something insulting.

A string of rapid Orlesian streamed out of Toulouse, too fast and sharp for you to even tell the words apart. Jude flinched under the words, looking shamed, though whether it was because he upset Toulouse or was getting a dress down with witnesses was unclear. Then once Toulouse ended his tirade dragged Jude out the door to wherever Hummings had taken off when Toulouse had stepped in.

You looked to Hendrich, whose eyes were still on the door Toulouse and Jude left through with a look of disappointment on his face.

“I, uh, didn’t understand that but I take it Jude swore or said something insulting?” Toulouse reaction certain reminded you of that time you had called your paternal grandmother a racist bitch and your Dad heard you.

That was the day you found out that your Dad had named you after the bitter biddy out of love towards the memory of her being a good loving mother to him and his brother, and he was deeply hurt that you would say that about her, despite the fact the woman straight up refused to acknowledge you or your siblings for being living proof her son married and produced with a Israeli woman.

Your Mom on the other hand, agreed with you as soon as your Dad was out of earshot and had only approved to the name because it had been passed down for six generations and it would be rather unkind to your forebearers to not name someone with a family name just because the previous holder of the name was a racist bitch.

Hendrich nodded, and Chef roped you into cooking the vegetables for dinner as the other kitchen helpers zipping around to the orders of their pudgy leader.

Throwing yourself into the veggies with gusto, you still couldn’t quite shake the happy grin on your face nor the anticipation of tomorrows dinner, humming ‘That’s What Bilbo Baggins Hates’ as you made a meatless stir fry.

Beans found you as you set the table, informing you he had placed the dogs in your room as many of the elves that were staying outside did not want them near. You thanked him for his quick thinking, deciding a night with your children would be nice.

He and a couple of the others helped you set the tables and the dining area was quickly filled with hungry elves and children ready to swarm the food with locus like manners, Toulouse and the elf leaders at the end and chatting, Hendrich had become a favorite among the children and was ensconced with them, Jude was sitting near Hummings and appeared to be talking politely and anger from earlier gone, Mute, Chef and several of the older children seemed to be in some sort of meeting, and Wells and Athim having flagged you down to sit with them and their friends.

You had such a great time and were in such a great mood you completely forgot to ask Athim for how to set wards up.

* * *

The halla was changing tactics.

Where it had before always stayed in view of you, it was now trying to get behind you in a slow predatory way. You once watch a video of a tiger rushing a child the moment they turned around and running into the glass, scaring the kid.

Unfortunately, there was no glass to prevent the multi-legged monster from coming closer. You kept your back to the trailer, trying not to look like you were aware of the creature’s movements.

Hippy and Eeyore had stayed right next to you, the nurse shark from before having left, confirming before they left that your unwanted stalker was indeed closing the gap between you and it. You kept pretending you were oblivious to it, making a show of drinking your beer and holding a book up to block your lower face you spoke quietly to your friends.

“Tomorrow I’m getting a ward placed around. I don’t know if it’ll block you out, but I figured I’d warn you.”

“Why?” Hippy asked, unicorn face pulled in an upset expression.

“The green beastie over there is worrying me, and since it is bigger than my trailer, I think I’m going to need some kind of protection from it.”

“Yes,” Eeyore agreed, “she isn’t hiding her intentions towards you.”

 _She?_ You thought before shrugging. Solas had called Wisdom a ‘she’ so it was entirely possible for spirits and demons to take gender pronouns.

“Her fascination with you in palpable,” Eeyore continued, leaning back. “ _It broke my prison, it can break my beloved’s._ _I must figure it out, cut it open, find what makes it shine, then sew it back up, perfecting it, make it mine, one of my children, perhaps as a gift for my beloved?”_ Eeyore shook its head, blinking as they repeated themselves. “She isn’t hiding her intentions towards you.”

The hair on the back of your neck rose.

That… was creepy and very alarming.

“Do… either of you know how to get to the Crossroads?” you asked, suddenly desiring to wake the hell up, downing your beer quickly.

Hippy didn’t know the place, but Eeyore did, so you asked if you’d end up right back here if you slept elsewhere. To your relief, Eeyore stated you wouldn’t but that you could tether yourself here to find it no matter how far you went.

You decided to set a ward up here and maybe sleep elsewhere in hopes of loosing the creepy green monster. You just hoped the elves wouldn’t mind you crashing out there with them.

You pleaded Eeyore to take themselves and Hippy to the Crossroads, as well as to inform the others loitering near your place to leave for their safety as you had no idea if the wards merely repelled them from coming in or if it hurt them. The donkey agreed to go after you awoke, and Hippy spent the remainder of the night asking questions about the Crossroads.

All awhile you kept half an eye on the halla that was ever so slowly creeping towards you.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up either the 1st or 2nd. I'm trying to keep a steady pace so, yay so far.
> 
> Next chapter will include impatient elves, finally retrieving some much needed books, smuggling other certain books in, nearly successful puppy theft, pizza, and a incident with howling consequences!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. I haven't been very motivated or inspired lately, so Thanks to them for the inspiration. Now go visit them and read their works because they are phenomenal.

It took you a few tries but you figured out how to wake yourself up after that enlightening if creepy conversation you had with your friends. Eeyore and Hippy would travel to the Crossroads and you’d meet them there. Though you forgot to ask how far the Crossroads were for them, since they didn’t have any magical mirrors to shorten the distance.

You hoped for their safety as you pulled yourself out of the literal dogpile your babies had made, dressing quietly in the dark room before taking them to the mirror room.

A pair of sentries were by the mirror, eyeing you as you passed but saying nothing, and you shook your head at the tangly feeling you always got passing the mirror. It was still dark, too dark for dawn to be coming anytime soon so you figured you spend a bit longer with the dogs before heading for the kitchens.

You held onto Rosie and Fezzik to keep them from saying ‘Hi’ to the sleeping campers and few awake sentries, nodding to the ones you passed. You kept a respectable distance from the main camp as you let your babies do their business, corralling Rosie and Fezzik every time they tried to meet an elf.

Once they were done you walked them further away, enjoying the night sounds. But most of all, you enjoyed the night sky.

You’ve seen pictures of the night sky without light pollution but actually seeing it in person was something else. There were more stars than you had ever seen, clustering the night like diamonds. The most jarring part of it all though, the thing that told you more than anything else just how far from Earth you were was the second moon that hung in it.

The first time you saw it, you couldn’t help but stare, bewitched by the alien sight. You could almost convince yourself you had been playing Skyrim and had been staring in awe at the twin moons. One moon looked to be the size and distance of Earth’s moon, the other bigger yet so much farther, as you have seen the smaller moon pass in front of it, and successfully hiding it completely from sight on one occasion.

 _Maybe after everything settles, I could bribe Xenon into letting me live out here,_ you thought, petting Rosie.

Fezzik let out a happy boff which was followed by an almost too low ‘shh!’. Startled you whipped around—

And saw Fezzik dancing round happily in front of one of the sentries, who was waving what appeared to be food. The person froze when you saw them, and with the twin moons light you could make out a sheepish smile.

“…please don’t steal the dogs. I already had to negotiate with the kids to keep them from stealing my fur babies.”

The fellow huffed a laugh, standing back up and walking away to where another sentry stood.

You really hoped you didn’t have to worry about another puppy theft attempt, you weren’t sure you could handle it if adults started in on it.

Taking the dogs back in, you were greeted by Beans placing bowls in your room. He grunted tiredly at you and you thanked him, leaving the dogs with him as you went in the direction of the kitchens.

There was movement on your peripherals, and you shrieked when someone grabbed you from behind. You didn’t even register who it was as you swung around, swiping your leg out to catch the perpetrator’s leg as you aimed a jab for the throat. A second pair of hands grabbed from behind and you shoved an elbow into a sternum, causing the arms to loosen long enough for you to hooking the arm and flip them over you.

You stalled at the sight of Wells staring dazedly up at you, Athim wheeze-coughing next to her. And not far from you was Shaelle, Pahlen and Tavel. Tavel was stifling a laugh as Shaelle smirked at the elves groaning at your feet, Pahlen walking over to heal Athim.

“Good! You can defend yourself! That saves me a couple of steps.” Shaelle commented as she walked over. “We still need you to find your aura, but at least you can defend yourself until we start with staffs.”

“What?” You were confused, helping Wells up as Athim rubbed his throat while glowering at you fiercely even as Pahlen told him to leave it alone so he could heal it correctly.

“Athim said you claimed to know how to defend yourself but that he had never seen you do so. It’s easier to confirm if you do a surprise attack, as well as see if you are any good.” Tavel answered, looking apologetic.

You stumbled out apologizes to the siblings, fretting over them as Shaelle sighed deeply.

“I’m more embarrassed Athim and Wells went down so fast, and with so little effort too.” Shaelle commented, stepping next to you. “Expect random attacks until you can throw a fireball.”

Pahlen scowled at the older elf. “You bullied them into a sneak attack and dragged all of us out of bed at such a time that even the Maker isn’t up.”

“Next time, you do it.” Athim rasped, Wells mumbling about evil crones which earned a smack on the arm from Pahlen.

"Please don't make them attack me. I'd rather not hurt them or get hurt."

"Well how else are you going to defend yourself until you can throw magic?"

"Do I really need to defend myself while in the emporium?"

"Yes." The siblings confirmed, Athim wheezing still, glaring at Shaelle who looked unimpressed.

“Suffer in silence, the girl needs to start her meditation.”

“Um, breakfast-” Shaelle cut you off.

“You can eat when they get it out.”

And before you could say anything else you were dragged off to the mirrors, Tavel still looking apologetic while Pahlen and the elf siblings looked extremely grumpy.

“Um, question?” You started, deciding since you had four mages here this was as good as any time to ask for help on your… nighttime stalker. You got three disgruntled groans and two ‘hmm’s so you continued.

“Not-so-hypothetically, how do I set up wards to keep massive green multi-legged halla demons from getting to me while I sleep?”

You crashed into Shaelle who had abruptly stopped, Athim crashing into your back. Four set of eyes stared at you with a dawning sort of realization, and Pahlen turned a startling pale as he stared at you like you had just confessed having coffee with the the Devil.

The silence shattered as four different mages started yelling and asking(demanding) questions, Wells groaning about wondering why you were awake so damn early.

And that was how you got a crash course in how to set wards without magic.

* * *

Having Shaelle’s undivided attention when she was in teacher mode apparently was different than Shaelle whose focus was divided. As in distracted Shaelle would poke you in the forehead and demand you to focus while undistracted Shaelle demanded you to focus while she kept poking you with magic… which hurt like a bitch and left your limbs partly numb.

If this was how she taught magic, you might be better off letting Athim take a jab at it.

But in Shaelle’s defense, she was dealing with an adult that had no clue how to consciously access her magic. It was probably like a merfolk teaching another mer to swim and being baffled that the mer literally had no idea how to swim and had been apparently attracting sharks.

No one was happy to know you had no protection against demons, and Pahlen looked like he was going to shit a brick when he figured out you were a Dreamer and yelled at you for not realizing the dangers (you had in fact understood the dangers, but were unwilling to disagree or vocalize as they had good reasons for their worry and fury. Didn’t mean it would stop you from exploring or making friends).

The healer had spent part of the morning questioning your dreaming and stalker, mostly your stalker and how long have you've seen her and if you have spoken directly to her. Once he was assured you had not he made you swear never to listen to anything the demon had to say, in fact if possible he wanted you to stay as far away from her as you could, warded or otherwise. After than he went to Samahl, who turned pale at Pahlen's words and shot you a look you couldn't make out bit gave you the impression he was going to be watching you more.

Breakfast had come and gone, Hummings having delivered you a meal before going off to no doubt talk the ear off of the many adults here. That or annoy Jude.

Shaelle finally released you after another session of failing to locate your aura when Athenril came by to see if you still desired to help her now that they had a finished chute.

The chute was surprisingly sturdy and well supported, with rope ladders on both sides hanging from the branches. On closer inspection the thing was tilted at a angle, the whole thing leaning heavier on the left.

Inside was a unapologetic mess, broken glass and everything not nailed down having scattered across the whole of the trailer, and you gave a small thanks to whatever entity watching over you that none of the book tubes were damaged.

Athenril had decided to brave the trailer with you, eyes taking in everything with a curious tug to her lips as she noted the boxes you wanted down. Carefully you picked through the remnants of your old life, an odd sense of somberness taking root at the sight of the tattered remains of what was once your whole world.

The tv was smashed, the game station that held Dragon Age was in countless pieces around it.

~~Riley and Sam’s playthrough forever gone~~

You looked around for the game cover, only to find it crushed under a dislodged cupboard. Shaking your head, you spied the sewing machine that was lodged into the wall, the tubes with fabrics, threads and various other bits unfortunately pretty much everywhere. You took the time to bag what you could and sent it down.

The boxes with the seeds, your unplanted garden had faired better, the plastic tub that held the other boxes having somehow stayed mostly in the same area and it too went down—

And pressed behind it in a cracked frame was the picture of your family.

Gently you pulled it out, staring at the blissfully happy family within. Popping open one of the books tubes, you found a gardening book you got but never and a chance to implement and stuck them safely within.

You had a sudden thought, and started pulling lids off, marking the important ones.

Finally, you found the one you had been looking for: your comic book collection.

You were very particular with how you boxed things, always trying to keep series together, which meant sometimes comics and books were mixed in.

Finding the ones you were looking for, you waited for Athenril to get another person in to help get the heavier boxes out before you stuffed several comics and small books in with the tube that had your plumbing guides in, burying it near the bottom.

Once done, you dragged it to the entrance and between you and the other two started in earnest to get the boxes down.

Hours flew by and before you knew it, shadows were starting to get long by the time you got the boxes out, having informed Athenril that everything could wait until she was certain it could get out without compromising the safety of the workers.

She had been an interesting lady, stoic and professional. You hoped to get to know her better in the coming weeks.

Besides the books, materials and seeds, you managed to rescue some of your coffee cups, the dog food and your babies’ bed, your beloved couch and (most importantly) you found your back up glasses.

Athenril gave a funny look when you cheered, but you hadn’t cared as you swapped out the gaudy golden ones for your smaller plainer and superior lenses.

The differences in sight were insane, the faces that you could only see clearly close up revealing the details previous hidden from you and you shamelessly took in the sights now that you could see it in detail until Shifty came up to inform you that if pizza was still on the menu than you better get to the kitchens soon.

You passed Samahl and his men, stopping only long enough to see the hanging people that were mostly on the ground and were being moved to the camp. Athenril said he planned to further explore the ruins once the people were safe by the mirror entrance.

Beans and Pockets were out with the dogs, the larger boy sticking his tongue out at an elf that was trying to feed Bojack beef and loudly telling him he couldn’t steal Bojack. Pockets yelled at another one that had stuffed Rosie in his shirt and tried to walk away before Samahl glared at the would-be puppy stealer and told him to put her back. Snorting in amusement and glad someone would ensure your children were safe, you headed in.

Chef stood by the door with their helpers (and funnily enough, Hendrich), telling you that they were allowing you to run the kitchens and if you needed help, they guess they could help. The kitchen crews nodded eagerly, Cookie practically vibrating where she stood. Hendrich just shrugged, eyes tinkling under those bushy brows.

* * *

_Well, this turned out better than I thought,_ you mused to yourself grinning as the last pizza was devoured by enthusiastic workers and children.

It had been a bit of a trial and error since you couldn’t set the oven at a certain time nor was the ingredients premade for use, meaning you had to wing parts of it but since nothing burnt or was undercooked you took it for the victory hat it was and mentally promised to make Chef cookies as thanks for both letting you have a chance to do this and for helping keeping the food from burning.

You had made enough pizza to give everyone three pieces, and according to Dough and Pudding it had been a big hit with further requests for pizza to become a staple of the Emporium _._

 _Asha, Deliverer of the Great and Delicious Pizza. It’ll go well with my legacy as the inventor of plumbing and toilets._ You thought in amusement, finishing writing Chef the recipe for basic pizza.

You ruffled the porty child’s head, earning a scowl which you chuckled at as you existed the kitchens, taking in the emporiums sights now that your vision was not as hindered. You had a bit of a headache from the adjustment, but it would fade away in short time.

You wandered to your room, finding even more cramped with all the boxes and the dogs. You took your children out, deciding to look through the boxes tomorrow. The skies dark once more as the workers wandered the area, some still eating their pizza’s and waving cheerfully at you as you passed.

You waved back, determinedly going to where Samahl was standing, ordering the move of the frozen people. His eyes flicked towards you and he held up a finger, finishing instructing before meeting you halfway.

“Serah _Asha_ ,” he greeted a quirk of his scarred lip, a look of amusement that you didn’t understand on his face before it smoothed. “can I help you?”

“Um, I was hoping I could stay out here for the night.”

“Why?” He asked, sounding bored.

“Shaelle and the others have been teaching me to set wards and I would like to be around them to ensure I’m setting them up correctly, but mostly? I want to be out here because the view is amazing.”

He hummed before shrugging, moving towards one of the frozen people. “I see no reason why not. Shaelle and the others should camp near the left side of the mirror… Serah? Are you alright?”

You barely heard him, eyes glued to the frozen man next to him. He was Caucasian, pasty in a way that said he had not been out in the sun much, hair a pale blond with gray starting to encroach around the temples, sunken brown eyes set in a face that bore an expression of scrunched up panic as though he had been screaming in terror before his temporal pause. Thin and wearing ripped and filthy clothes, hands tied before him. _The Prisoner_ , your mind supplied, barely a whisper as your world stretched and sharped, you vision suddenly sharper ad brighter to the point your eyes watered—

“Dad…?” the word fell from your mouth with no filter, staring at the frozen man before you started looking for piercings in the ears, or the tattoo on the right wrist that had your siblings and your birthdates or his ring tattoo he got with Mom… but no, no tattoos or piercing marks, no thin scar above the left brow he got when you had been twelve and had accidently nailed him with a dowel rod when you had played swords with him.

Samahl leaned down next to you, eyes sharp and around him was a pale blue light that wisp around him in a comforting manner. “Your father?”

You shook your head, trying to focus on the lookalike and not the lights shinning off all the elves. The frozen man had a shimmer of lilac light around him like a barrier, and a quick look to the others revealed the other frozen people had similar colored shimmery lights shielding around. Your eyes watered, the lights bright and too clear.

“N-no. he can’t be my father. Dad… he passed away five years ago.” You replied, looking at your Dad’s lookalike sadly. “He just… looks like him.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Samahl rumbled sincerely, stepping away.

You nodded in thanks, moving away from the man who looked like the split image of Samuel DuBois Sr and patted the pale blond hair in an almost affectionate manner and promptly hissed as what felt like static electricity jolted up your arm.

The lilac shield shattered around blond and suddenly, as though someone had pressed play after leaving the pause button on, your father’s doppelganger dropped to the pillows beneath him, a cut off curse leaving his mouth.

He was soon echoed by all the others frozen in time and like him, suddenly reanimated and dropping to the pillow covered ground with force with many curses and cut off screams.

“What the-” was as far as Samahl got when a thunderous earthquake nearly knocked everyone down.

And in the direction of the trailer, an angry painfilled howl sundered the air so hard it shook the trees.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who just woke up?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. They are amazing and you should visit them and read their works.

* * *

Pandemonium was the best word to describe what happened following the monstrous wolf howl.

The workers had flooded the mirror, looking like a scene from Ratatouille where the rats were scattering everywhere in a desperate bid to escape, screams and shouts renting the air in their desperation to get to safety.

You and the dogs were still by the forgotten newly unfrozen people, Athim and Wells standing by though it was pretty obvious the only reason the elder of the two hadn’t joined the stampede was because he was struggling to get his sister to go. Wells was trying to help the unfrozen, who all sported looks that ranged from bewilderment to pant-shitting terror. There was sixteen people here, all having formed a tight group the second they were a aware and coherent of their surroundings.

Solas let out another painfilled howl and a strange visceral sort of guilt run through you and you didn’t know why. _Find him,_ something urged you and a sense of detachment took ahold of you, like a switch was flipped.

You waited for the majority of the elves to get through before you scooped up Fezzik next to Rosie and handed them both to one of the unfrozen- a red headed elf who was staring at you like you were some kind of cannibalistic Satanist come to sacrifice her. “Hold my children, I have to go check on something. Athim and Wells! Get these guys in the emporium, I havta check on Fluffy!”

Athim was yelling at you to get back here and to not go after huge wounded and dangerous demon wolves but you were already running, your common sense screeching at you to turn around and take Athim’s advice, but between the disembodied sort of guilt, a strange force that moved you physically and the world sharpening into frightening detail and glowing sparkles you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

You were compelled to go find Solas, and perhaps if the world wasn’t shifting before your eyes and erupting in colors and shimmering light’s you’d have taken the moment to question where this compulsion was coming from. Instead there was this strange otherworld pull that filled and moved you, overwriting any and all self-preservation that was even now was clawing at the back of your mind to leave.

The world warped around you and suddenly you stood in front of your trailer, still intact and stuck in the tree but its black breathing moon gone. The ground shook under your feet and you saw a bright, fire engine red outline of a wolf assaulting your senses. He was farther away, and a quick check of the area showed that Solas had hit the ground at an angle and started rolling over the trees from whatever force had thrown him.

And impaled on a broken tree was the dragon’s head, huge black and tongue lagging out at a side that indicted it was not intentionally impaled but rather dropped. You ignored the dead lizard and followed the carnage, your feet going forward as you mind screamed to turn around as the howling echoed in your head, eyes watering at the lights.

The massive red light was shrinking, the destroyed trees and landscape getting progressively smaller until you had to rely only on the angry red to find him. You ran into a clearing, mind screaming to get out of there as your body was propelled further still.

The ground was upturned, stone smashed, and trees uproot. And in the center, like a burning meteorite was the rapidly shrinking Dread Wolf. Black fur and burning red eyes transformed into elven form, the howling shifting from wolf to man.

He was on his side, armor broken, covered in blood and dirt, clutching his arm which looked mangled. His face half hidden by blood-soaked dreadlocks, but you could still see the agony he was in.

You moved forward, unsure what you could even do to help when he saw you.

And the angry red light suddenly turned black and noxious.

He hissed, baring his teeth in a show of aggression and you recoiled from the murderous fury he was directing at you. "Ma salhasine'asha!"

You froze in place, finally forcing your body to stop its movements, and he spent several minutes yelling at you in a seething manner, and while you didn’t understand anything he was saying, you could clearly see he was not just insulting you but taking your name in vain and heaping many curses and ill wills upon you as he could think of.

 _What did I do to get that response,_ you thought hysterically, skin crawling at the tangible hatred he was directing at you. You were quite sure the only reason he was merely yelling and cursing at you was because he was physically unable to get up and kill you yet.

A crashing noise silenced him, both of you looking to the place you had come from and finding two blues and two purples lights in the shape of people running towards you. Samahl, Pahlen and two of the unfrozen, a pair of human males in Tevinter clothes burst on to the scene, the latter two looking frazzled and the former looking ready to jump into action.

Samahl’s purple started turning blue at seeing you, eyes dropping to Solas in with a odd expression filtering across.

Pahlen’s purple bled to red, eyes locked on Solas in a deceptively neutral manner. He took a step forward and you stepped in front of him, blocking the way. This made the compulsion you felt writhe, a furious song in your head telling you to move and allow the elf by.

The older elf scowled at you, red easing back into a deep purple. “Move girl, I need to help him.”

“No.” you blurted, eyes more focused on his dark outline. “Not until you aren’t intending to kill him.”

“I won’t harm him.” Pahlen replied, and his lights… rippled. Or rather the light outline rippled, and you just knew he had lied.

“Back up. Stop.” You firmly said, eyes on the processively darkening lights. His eyes tightened, scowl in place as he tried to bypass you, the force that was trying to compel you urging you to let him.

He looked back at Solas and the purple shifted to red and started blackening and you just knew if he got close, Solas was a dead man.

The force practically frothed with delight at that.

“I said **_stop_**!” You yelled, pushing him back and lilac flooded your world and suddenly the blackish red was replaced by the lilac, shimmering around him like a skin-tight shield.

Pahlen froze in place, expression hard and focused and now completely immobile, the compulsion to get closer to Solas abruptly died, but not before it hissed in fury.

 _What…?_ Your mind echoed, staring at the now time stopped Pahlen and strange thing that had taken hold of you but before you could even start to figure that, Samahl was moving.

Intinct took over and without intention a fireball suddenly launched from your fingertips and the Dalish rolled out of the way, hands held up in a peaceful gesture.

His light was still blue though it had shifted into a brighter turquoise sort of blue, eyes wide as he looked at you like he had only just now noticed you. Words escaped his mouth, light and melodious…

…and completely elvhen.

Your brain jumped, made connections and a hysterical giggle escaped you. “You’re Elvhen. Holy crap, you were around before the veil, weren’t you? Holy shit that’s not a Dalish mark, it’s a slave brand-”

“I hate to interrupt,” a chipper voice interrupted your spiral into the unknown, and one of the Tevinter dressed men stepped forward. He was blonde, pale, in his early thirties and practically oozed charm, a direct contrast to his associate who was a dark haired and tanned teen who was looking at you with a worried expression. “but Fen’Harel seems to be going into shock and needs healing, _now_.”

You whipped around and cursed as you realized Solas had a glassy look in his eyes, breathing starting to turn shallow and appeared to be still conscious through sheer will alone.

The blonde moved forward, telling Samahl to inform Solas that he needed to heal him and that he meant no harm. Samahl hesitated but conceded after another look at Solas. Several quick words later and Solas sluggishly nodded, the black disappearing to a sick red to a hostile purple that lightened to a murky blue when the dark-haired teen gently led you further away.

“Sorry Madame DuBois, but Anders insisted we follow.” The teen said in an apologetic manner, unaware that he had said two words that completely derailed your thoughts.

The first being—

“That was Anders?!” Anders? As in Rebel Possessed Mage Anders? Remover of Compromises through War Inducing Bombing Anders? Why was he here?

The second was—

_Why did this kid know your old surname?_

The teen gave you a placid look as he nodded. “Yes, Madame DuBois. I know you don’t see very well and are occasionally too… soused to tell us apart, but I assure you-”

“Whoa whoa _whoa_! I haven’t drunk in nearly a month!” you said shrilly, realizing the kid was unaware of the time differences. “You guys have been frozen like that guy for like three weeks!”

The boy blinked rapidly, looking from you to where you were pointing at Pahlen. Then in a quiet yet oddly hopeful tone he asked, “Does that mean you are sober right now?”

“Yes!” you hissed, and it was dawning on you that you may not have gone straight from the pit stop to the Crossroads. It almost sounded like you somehow took detours that led to you acquiring Anders and over a dozen other people.

A huge, relieved smile found itself on his face, his blue outline suddenly brightened to almost green with happiness. “Oh, thank the Maker!”

Before you could try and figure out what to ask, Anders ( _Holy shit, its Anders!)_ swaggered over. He was… even better looking in person, looking more like his Awakenings self than DA2.

“Right so that guy,” he pointed to Samahl who had given Pahlen a disappointed look before leaving, “is going to try and get some of his less cowardly and tight lipped minions over here to help get Fen’Harel back to this Emporium you found. He’ll personally oversee the process and get his healer over there as well, and has requested that you release the guy into his care once we can be sure that he won’t be a danger.”

“I-is S- _he_ going to be alright?” you asked pointing to Solas, and _oh shit Anders knows Solas is Fen’Harel -- what the hell?!_

Anders grimaced. “I have managed to stop the internal bleeding and the worst of his immediate issues but I’m going to need a lyrium and someone who knows healing to aide me as I’ve only delayed the worst of it. He has broken and fractured a lot of bones, punctured a lung, has a nasty concussion, blood loss, and his left arm may not be salvageable. The fact he could yell at all, let alone cuss you out was impressive considering the pain he’s in.”

You swayed and Anders arms shot out to steady you as the still unnamed teen proceeded to put an arm around your shoulder. Looking passed them you saw Solas’ head leaned back, eyes closed but still breathing.

“Now DuBois, we need to go find the others and your babies and then I’m going to leave you with your father and the Dalish Elves.” You barely processed the many red flags in that sentence when he continued blithely on. “While I work to save our wolfy friend, you go with Fefe here who’ll take you to the kids, and you can watch Connor and Oren with Soris or talk shop with Aria and Varania or get into an insult match with Trian again. And don’t sample the booze here no matter what Kalah says, okay?”

Anders spoke in a manner that suggested he was expected a fight or at least an argument, and it almost would have come across as condescending if he wasn’t using a tone that suggested familiarity and was trying to keep you from doing something stupid.

“What?” Your mind lagged at the names, klaxon blaring alarms in your head at the people he causally spoke of that were slowly starting to connect with the metaknowledge you possessed, ignoring the teen who groused at Anders not to call him ‘Fefe’.

Anders sagged, a look of exhaustion bleeding through as he held his hands together as though to plead with you. “Just behalf, please? And no causing riots, paralyzing Arl sons, kidnap students, proposing marriage to Dalish mages, causing civil unrest among dwarves, using your home as a battering ram, freeing and pissing off Dalish gods and most importantly _no drinking_.”

“The hell would I do any of that?!” You screeched, the feeling of being overwhelmed growing. What happened before you got to the Crossroads? And since when had you ever drunk to the point of severe intoxication in front of other people?!

“Anders!” ‘Fefe’ interrupted, practically bouncing on the spot. “She’s sober!”

Anders froze momentarily, looking at you with a stunned expression. You didn’t even have time to ask why that was strange when Anders hands started moving and a shimmering veil of magic coated you. The look he sported transformed to relief and surprise as he breathed, “Clean. You are completely clean. How? You couldn’t walk a straight line an hour ago.”

“She said we’ve been frozen like that elf for three weeks.” Fefe replied, looking ecstatic yet concerned.

“Three weeks? Maker, you didn’t topple any nations or start another cult while we were unable to do anything, did you?”

“She said she hasn’t drank anything in that time.” The teen helpfully added as you were too busy sputtering at Anders who seemed to think you were some kind of walking drunken disaster.

Finally, you found your voice, and you took a moment to temper out the panic in it into something more composed. “What is going on here? How do you know me? And how did you know my old surname?”

You would have been proud of how composed you sounded, had you truly been composed at all.

Both men stopped short and looked at you, Anders making the connecting faster than his compatriot. “You… don’t remember us.”

“No!” and there went the faux composure. “I woke up with no memory of how I got here, blind, my trailer in a tree, car crushed like a tin can, and people on pause around my house like fleshy decorations!”

Anders and Fefe shared a look and then a nod. Their blue outline blurred slightly as your attention shifted to the six purple blue and purple lights heading your way and Anders pushed you at the Tevinter. “Go with him. We’ll talk later when I don’t have an elf god dying on my hands.”

The teen directed you towards the group, who consisted of four elves carrying a stretcher, Athim with a medical pack clutched in a white knuckled grip and a grim terrified expression being lead by Samahl.

Athim paused just long enough to give you a harsh expression and a quick “We are going have words later.”, to which you winced but nodded in compliance.

Samahl gave a lingering look, and while you couldn’t identify the exact emotion he was displaying you felt he intended to have words with you as well.

The walk back felt strangely long in comparison to how quickly you got there, the lights around you dimming somewhat but perplexingly not going away. This didn’t help your already overwhelmed mind, trying to understand what was going on yet missing too many pieces.

What you did know was that apparently you had accidently taken a bunch of people who (if Anders and the kid were anything to go by) thought you were a heavy drinking lush of a maniac that caused massive fuck ups.

Trying to make even the smallest amount of sense you studied the boy next to you, who still kept a polite if firm grip on your shoulder.

He didn’t look older than nineteen, hair short and messy and had a sad attempt of a beard trying to grow on his chin. He was thin with laugh lines starting to show on his face, indicating he was usually smiling. His clothes, dirty as they were was clearly of high-quality cloth and the seamstress in you admired the stitching and intricated designs sown on his front, a sort of emblem embroidered upon in. A family emblem perhaps?

“Um, I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.”

He jolted, looking as though you had forcibly dragged him out of his own head. A nervous smile found its way on his young face, eyes looking at you critically.

“Ah, um, I forgot you don’t remember me.”

He sounded so nervous, and you wondered once more what the hell happened after you blacked out at the pit stop to make this kid look at you like you were a dangerous nuke about to go off.

“Sorry… I don’t know what I did to make you so nervous but I’m sorry.” You tried, hoping you hadn’t accidently scarred him for life with what shenanigans you committed while inebriated.

Shenanigans that caused Anders to act like your beleaguered caretaker and made Solas hate you worse than a power hungry and racist Inquisitor.

“Oh, uh, it’s… well, not fine… but you are sober now so, and haven’t violated the laws of nature or physics so far, which I’m taking as a good sign. And sober you is a lot less… loud. And dramatic. Or glowy. And so far you haven’t kidnapped anyone for their own safety, so that is good!”

You cringed with each point the kid made, and suddenly you didn’t want to go to the emporium where there was apparently an entire crew of people you’ve kidnapped. Shit, you hadn’t gotten a chance to even look at them with your glasses outside of the Prisoner!

“Can… can we try this again? Introduction, I mean?” You were drowning in a overload of too many lights and information that wasn’t making sense, trying to find a rope to drag yourself out of it in order to attempt to make sense.

“I’m Asha, I don’t really go by DuBois anymore, or any other name…” you trailed off as the two of you approached the active mirror.

The teen nodded his head in greeting and proceeded to turn your world upside-down with his name.

I’m Felix Alexius. You kidnapped me from the University of Orlais.”

The noise you made was probably not human, and the surrounding area fuzzed out as a static filled your ears, and suddenly the world was spinning away from you at the exact same time you begun to process the magnitude of your drunken kerfuffle.

The last thing you saw was Felix’s panicked expression.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be on vacation next week, the next chapter will be on either the 22nd or 23rd.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. They are amazing and you should visit them and read their works.

* * *

The bar was a mosh pit of noise and bodies with you manning at the filled bar, downing ale between servings. The residents taking up space all around you looked like they could have been background characters from The Labyrinth, Mos Eisley’s Cantina and Hellboys Troll Market.

Many crowded around you, each eager to try one of the drinks you kept summoning, with you being mindful of who got what. Eagerness, who had lots of eyes, mouths and a uneven amount of limbs was impatiently waiting another shot of expresso and was very nearly about to elbow Sloth-slug in whatever passed as a throat for them.

“Hey be careful! Enthusiasm is a nice thing to be but not if it comes at the expense of others.” You chided gently, handing them another expresso and a decaf coffee to the Sloth-slug. They meandered off as you gave a White Russian to a Pride demon that took the form of a six eyed bipedal lion and an Aunt Roberta to a gryphon you were pretty certain was a spirit of Bravery.

“Alright guys, I have stuff to do so last call if you want something!”

Dozens of beings of every shape and size swarmed you, and you managed to get everyone something before the bar around you dissolved, revealing the Crossroads from the fade point of view.

You finished your own beverage before squaring your shoulders, unsure where to even begin looking.

Passing out was embarrassing, but if it delayed you having to face sixteen people you apparently kidnaped on accident, you’d take it. One of the despair demons had found you after you arrived and having no desire to have them poking around your questionable mind right now had offered them a ale instead. Soon enough others had been drawn so you made a bar, giving out samples of your emotion flavored drinks.

It had been helpful, letting the denizens of the fade try a number of drinks out and allowing you to get some kind of control over your chaotic mind but now you had a goal to see through.

Namely to see if you could review how you got in the Crossroads with sixteen kidnappees and a pissed-off Dread Wolf.

You still had no idea on how to even begin understanding _that_.

Traveling in the fade was not exact, and you quickly figured out that finding the places you wanted took a good amount of will to locate, especially as you were pretty certain you were physically in the emporium. You presumed that because you passed out in the Crossroads you stayed there even though your body probably wasn’t there anymore.

 _I’ll worry about schematics later,_ you thought, coming up to a familiar tree with a even more familiar RV. The tree kept shimmering, the day and night lights echoing off of the yellow of the trailer. Shadows of people flowed around, alternating between swarms of them to barely any.

 _Probably because of how active it’s been on the other side_ , you theorized as you stood by, staying out of the shadow’s ways. _Well I found the right spot, now how do I look back in time_? You thought with a frown, looking around for something or someone. Maybe you could ask one of the fade denizens?

Before you could think further on what to do, the shadows shifted, solidifying into somewhat familiar faces. Most turned into doppelgangers of the workers, words like whispers conversations as they shot about the area.

The shadows of Samahl, Athim and the mages shined the brightest, the denizens playing them much clearer than the nonmagical workers.

Samahl was ordering people to check the ruins, find anything that looked important, stressing discretion and to report directly to him, a eagerness and excitement flowing off as he made these orders, ancient scars covering his form yet he stood tall.

Athim was talking with a dulled version of Wells, his shadow strange as it looked like there where two people occupying the same spot, his hands blood red and the color slowly encroaching up his arms. Wells dulled form had many scars across her back and neck, and while she was dark in comparison to the mage’s she somehow exuded a brightness that seemed to have been forged from persevering from events she had overcome.

Shaelle looked so much older than she was with wrinkles and sagging skin yet her eyes were clear and she stood tall and almost regally proud, Tavel looked like their shadow was crying as they smiled and Pahlen… he looked as bright as Samahl, yet he was like a broken porcelain that was fixed with some kind of glowing metal, an ancient anger radiating off of him yet tightly controlled.

Everyone had something that stood out, be it scars, glows or extra appendages and you weren’t certain if that was just the spirits and demons natural form showing though, if that was how they saw them or if perhaps that was perhaps their true self bleeding through.

_Soooo… how to do this? Do I just wish really hard? Or think of an event?_

“Good guesses, though it’s a bit of both.” A deep masculine voice answered, and you looked back to the path you had taken to get here.

A spirit stood a respectable distance from you, head tilted in greeting. You struggled to make any one distinction about them, as the only concrete thing you could pick up was that they took the form of a massive English Mastiff, big enough to ride on. They felt… incredibly old, as though they were the result of many centuries of steadfastness.

“The spirits are often attracted to those who share similar qualities to them. Even if it’s just a memory, they are drawn to those people. Events that those people of lived through can shape their qualities or cause them to develop new ones, creating multifaceted emotions that draw many spirits to one person.”

You nodded, looking back at the spirits playing the memory. “People are rarely as simple as others make them out to be.”

The wrinkled dog-spirit smiled, nodding in agreement.

You turned from the memory, giving them your complete attention. “I’m Asha. What do you call yourself if I may ask?”

The spirit raised a brow, looking amused. “That isn’t the name you gave when we first met.”

That threw you for a loop. “Uh… we’ve met?”

The spirit stared at you curiously before actually nodding sympathetic manner. “Ah, you don’t remember. Time tends to wear memories faster than water against stone. Though there were assistance in your blankness.”

 _Just how drunk was I?_ you thought wearily, the huge spirit chuffed in amusement.

“Very! You’ll have to speak to Impudence for just how much. Well since you do not recall, then introductions are in order. I am Loyalty, though you re-named me Snuggles.”

You couldn’t stop the flinch at that. “Uh, did I at least get your permission to dub you?”

“Oh yes! It amused me enough to keep it, and it made me more approachable to your companions.”

 _What, did I find my accidental victims while they slept and haunted even their dreams? Please tell me I didn’t haunt their dreams._ You hoped, rubbing your arm as you winced.

“You did not.” Snuggles _(oh gods I named them that!)_ answered, causing you to sigh in relief. “You brought them along during your adventures whenever you traveled through the Fade.”

“But you just said I didn’t bother them while they were sleeping?” You asked in confusion.

“And you didn’t.” He nodded in confirmation. He then cheerfully gutted you their next words. “I meant when you would open a path into the veil and brought everyone in to travel. It was interesting watching you create them in various sizes.”

You stared incomprehensively up at the wrinkled dog face, not sure you heard him right. “…Are you saying I made a _rift_ in the veil and just… _walked in_?”

“And out! Repeatably at that! You routinely brought in new people and introduced them to us.”

“Us?” An unflattering squeak left you, alarm clawing your innards. _No, no, no what have I done?_

“Jubilee, Despair, Devotion, Impudence and myself.”

“Lovely.” No not really, because apparently on top of the kerfuffle of the accidental kidnappings, drunken antics and ticked off Dread Floofers you had figured out how to cause a rift in the veil that (by Snuggles admission) you used frequently and made a bunch of friends of people you couldn’t remember.

“I got friends on the other side.” The lyrics fell of your tongue in an off-tune voice, plopping to the ground as a fit of giggles overtook you with a sensation of being overwhelmed, the giggles quickly morphed into a blubbering sort of noise. You felt a massive paw gently pat your head in a ‘there, there’ sort of fashion, causing you to start giggling again over being petted by a spirit that looked like a bear sized dog.

“Your thoughts are very disorganized. What does ‘No shit, Sherlock’ mean?”

“A phrase used when someone points out the obvious.”

Snuggles rested their paw on your head, occasionally petting you. You thanked him for comforting you, earning a big doggy smile. “You’re welcome. You want to learn how to look through events? I felt your need to see the events that took you here.”

“Uh, only if you are offering it freely, because I really don’t want to owe anyone, and I am not interested in finding out what possession feels like.” Especially after what ever the hell had forcibly made you seek out Solas. You didn’t know what to make of that, but as far as you could tell you weren’t possessed.

“You are not possessed, though I do sense something trying to burrow into your aura.” He replied, head tilting. “It is confused, you don’t make sense. _Why is she made wrong? The soul is aberrant…_ It whispers, frustrated and angry at being denied It’s directive. It was placed there to control you, take ownership yet you rebel without meaning to. A bloody tattoo with a sliver of her essence carved onto your flesh meant to bind you to her will and while she marked the flesh, she couldn’t yoke the soul. _The soul is aberrant._ ”

The hair on your neck rose, and you remembered a certain giant insectoid halla haunting your previous sleeping space.

Had you been injured? You recalled when you arrived here all the bruises and scratches that covered you, yet no major injuries. But hadn’t there been blood? This was Thedas, blood magic was a thing here! It was frightenedly possible for someone to use your blood to enslave someone! Or you! And when the time spell had worn off your accidental victims you lost partial control of your body!

 _Someone has control of my body,_ the thought froze your blood. He said 'she' _(she who?)_ marked you, did he mean one of the various scratches or tiny scars you got when you finally regained your senses? You still had a faded mark on your neck that had worried you--

Snuggles paw gently patted you again, comforting. “There, there. It can’t take complete command, she is too weak to enforce it and you are too foreign for it to truly take control. I’ll have to ask around, but I think even if she got stronger, she would struggle to keep you under power. Earth souls are otherworldly and don’t make sense even to us that know your kind exists- oh, too much information.”

 _Way too much!_ you thought hysterically, pushing their paw away as you feared in your state you might hurt him without meaning to.

“I’m fine, but thank you for thinking of that. I won’t turn so simply.” He replied, and you couldn’t help but believe them. “Now do you wish to learn how to watch events? Or would you like to wait till the others are here?”

You almost said to show you but you stopped, looking around you at the various shades and shadows wearing so many familiar faces. You needed to know but…

“…You are scared of what you’ll find.” Snuggles finished the thought.

“Can you blame me? I apparently got thoroughly fershnikit’ed to the point I shanghai’ed a crowd of people from across the damn continent, and according to Anders I caused numerous Pandora box moments _and_ broke the laws of Thedas by walking in and out of the fade like it was a revolving door! Did I mentioned I was blindingly tanked out _while doing all of this_?!” You shrieked, pulling a hand through your hair. "And now I just found out that someone has the ability to turn me into a marionette doll!"

“I understood most of those words though not quite in that order.”

You laughed, loud and maniacal. It took longer than you were comfortable admitting to calm down but Snuggles stayed by you, paw now rubbing circles on your back. After several deep breaths you shuddered a answer to his earlier question.

“I-I think I’d like the rest of your buddies when I do this.” Then you were hit with inspiration. “Can… can you look for Wisdom? Uh, Solas- _uh_ \- Fen’Harel’s friend? She may be able to help out?”

“Hmmm. I can look and invite if I find her, but it will be her choice to come or not.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

He smiled, tail wagging. “You’re welcome. Tomorrow night?”

You nodded in agreement as he moved close, poking you with a wet nose. “Then you should talk to your comrades, reacquaint yourself with them. So you should _wake up_.”

The world shifted, and suddenly you were in Xenon’s room flat on your back. _Shit, I forgot to ask him who 'she' is!_

“AH EXCELLENT, YOU ARE AWAKE. NOW,” Xenon voice sounded above you as you picked yourself off the floor. Beyond the door you could hear a numerous amount of people running and yelling about, and you were fairly certain that was Samahl shouting at someone who was shouting right back.

“URCHIN IS INDISPOSE THANKS TO THE SWARM OF PANICKING HIRED HELP AND THE HEALER YOU RESUSCITATED IS A SNIPPY BRAT WHO ORDERED HIS PEOPLE TO NOT TALK, SO TELL ME," Xenon voice dropped to a dark and keen tone that made your skin crawl at the sheer gleeful excitement it contained. "WHY IS THERE A TRICKSTER GOD FROM ELVISH LEGEND CURRENTLY DYING IN MY EMPORIUM?”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to introduce Snuggles for like three chapters. The mental image of a massive dog treating Asha like a untrained puppy amused me too much.  
> Snuggle: Good girl! Here's a treat!  
> Asha: *embarrassed but goes along with it because he's adorable*
> 
> And of course Xenon is excited to have a very, very old source of info to pump. After all, he's suppose to immortal, right? And if he isn't immortal, well...  
> Asha: Sir, I must implore you not to stuff Fen'Harel if he dies.  
> Xenon: BUT OF COURSE! I WANT HIM TO TURN INTO THAT SIX EYED WOLF BEFORE HE DIES! MUCH MORE INTERESTING THING TO KEEP AROUND!  
> Solas: *rude hand gesture*
> 
> I should (hopefully) have the next chapter up on either the 1st or 2nd. Thank you all for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. They are amazing and you should visit them and read their works.

* * *

_Explaining in technical truths should be a skill set most people know_ , you thought, having decided to wash Xenon as you did. Washing a corpse-looking man with little vision had oddly enough been a boon, as now that you had your glasses back you could see him in horrifying detail. Mercifully you were quickly becoming desensitized towards his form, so you weren’t complaining.

As for your employer well if he were capable of it, Xenon would probably be vibrating with excitement on the many discoveries that had happened. He now had your books (mercifully all located in your room), people of still unknown origins to interview, a Elvhen god who he was extremely eager to see surviving his wounds, and now a Earthborn human capable of some kind of time magic. Sure, you greatly glossed over everything of importance and heavily leaned into the fact you had no idea where these people came from, but you hadn’t lied, so there.

“THIS IS WONDERFUL NEWS! I HAVEN’T BEEN THIS INVIGORATED SINCE THE LAST EARTH- HUMAN CAME AND DROPPED DEAD IN MY CARE!”

“I’m thrilled your thrilled, sir.” You lied, standing up with several pops from your spine. The lights you have been seeing had not left, and Xenon outline was a bright spring green. Happiness, maybe? You’d need to see more people to confirm the colors. Except red and black, you were pretty certain those meant attack and murder.

“YES, THIS HAS BEEN A MOST EXHILARATING DAY! WOMAN, TAKE THE WEEK OFF AND TALK TO THOSE PEOPLE YOU AWOKE, GET THEIR NAMES, ORIGINS AND SEE IF THEY ARE SEEKING EMPLOYMENT! IF THEY ARE FROM EARTH AS WELL, YOU CAN HELP THEM ACCLIMATE INTO THEIR NEW LIVES, THOUGH IF THEY SEEK TO RETURN TO EARTH, I WILL MAGNANIMOUSLY OFFER TO AIDE THEM IN THEIR QUEST.”

“And if they are Thedas-born, sir?”

“I WILL STILL OFFER THEM EMPLOYMENT OR A RETURN TO THEIR OLD LIVES. FOR A FAVOR, OF COURSE.”

“But of course.”

“EXCELLENT! NOW BE OFF WITH YOU. _URCHIN_!”

You moved out of the way as Mute barreled pass you, sending you an irked expression as his outline was a solid purple. You gave him an apologetic smile before quickly leaving.

The halls were filled with people, children darting between loudly talking adults, some yelling, some whispering, but a good chunk of them praying, the main colors a numerous shades of blues and purples.

You fought to get through the crowded hall when a arm snaked out from the mass and grabbed you, pulling you away. You only saw blond hair before you were yanked into a cluttered room and away from the public.

Leaning against a door was the Prisoner, breathing hard as though he had just run a marathon. He was no longer dressed in rags but in ill-fitted pants and a shirt that was clearly too big for him, feet bare against the floor. Finally catching his breath, he straightened himself to look at you, smiling with amused eyes and greenish-blue outline.

Your heart ached at the sight of Samuel DuBois doppelgänger, even with the clear differences. “Well! Nothing is dull around you, is it?”

There was an aborted laugh behind you, dragging your attention from the older man. Two Dalishes stood by the wall—

“Holy Buddha, Loki and Frank Sinatra! It’s Merrill!” _What is Merril doing here- oh gods, don’t tell me I kidnaped her too- how did I even **find** her?!_

Merrill ( _The_ _Merrill!_ ) blinked at you in perplexing manner before smiling welcomingly at you, her light a light turquoise and her blond companion a pretty periwinkle. “Oh! Fefe said you didn’t remember us! Was that wrong?”

“Uhhhno? I mean that I don’t remember our first meeting, but I knew you from…” You trailed off, suddenly unsure how to explain how you knew her that didn’t sound insane or stalkery.

“Your visions. You told us about those.” The male Dalish replied, Merrill nodding in understanding.

 _Visions? What visions- ohhhhhh please tell me I didn’t go the seer route._ You winced, rubbing the back of your head. “Uh, um? What did I tell you? Because honestly? I have no idea what has happened before I got to the Emporium.”

“Of course, DuBois.”

A groan escaped at the name. “DuBois is- _was_ my family name. Please call me Asha.”

“Well, since we are getting all cozy and about ready to break out the friendship bracelets, why don’t we introduce ourselves? Namely for my benefit, as I still haven’t gotten everyone’s names since my rescue.” The Prisoner asked, looking amused.

Merrill nodded along as the blond elf next to her shrugged in acceptance.

“I’m Merrill and this is Tamlen,” Merrill introduced, and you nearly gave yourself whiplash t how fast you looked at the blond Dalish. “we are both from clan Sabrae.”

“Uh-huh, and how did you get to know her?” The man inquired, giving you a questioning look that was oddly… gentle? Wary? Hopeful? Or maybe wistful?

“Du- _Asha_ showed up and proceeded to squeal at me, telling me I was even prettier in person and that she needed to help me fix a mirror and save my clan. She then asked me to come with her to save more people until I could find this mirror, and it was so fascinating I decided to go.” Merrill replied cheerily.

You winced, but so far that wasn’t so bad in comparison to Felix and maybe Anders -

“She also asked me to marry her six times.” Merrill cheerfully informed all, breaking through your train thought with the force of a kick to the teeth.

Tamlen ( _holy shit that’s Tamlen_ ) nodded as he spoke, jarring you with his accent that was similar to Merrill’s. “Aye, always variations of her dropping to one knee holding Merrill’s hand and saying things like ‘Oh Merrill, most adorable, amazing and incredible of the Champion’s Companions, will you marry me? I promise to give you clothing that make you look like a goddess and feed you decadent and tasty foods and let you sleep with anyone you want and cheerfully call your babies my own’. I’m paraphrasing of course, but that is the gist of it. I’m here because Lyna was sick and the rest of the clan refused to go near her after she tore a hole in the veil.”

“She has good taste; you are quite lovely.” The man said, looking at you with a remarkably proud expression as Merrill blushed with a thanks. “Soooo she deliberately got us into the Fade? Maker, I was hoping that was a desperate one-time thing.”

“Oh no, she does that quite often,” Merrill supplied, and it showed just how lost you were that you weren’t offended at them talking like you weren’t there. “It’s how we traveled so quickly from place to place. According to Lord Fen’Harel before she kidnapped him too, she was shortening the travel time by quite a bit! Fefe and Anders are trying to figure it out with me but before it was difficult to get a straight answer from her, but now that Du- _Asha_ is sober we can finally get answers!”

“Hopefully it’ll be more than ‘Just do the thingy, but not _that_ thingy’.” Tamlen seemingly quoted, looking at you in amusement.

“Um… I have no idea how I did any of that.” At the looks they were giving, you rambled a little more. “Look, I don’t even know how long we’ve known each other, let alone the crazy stuff I apparently committed while three sheets to the wind.”

“So you don’t know how you opened a path in and out of the veil?” Merrill asked, looking disappointed.

“No, nada. Evidently drunk me is a brilliantly insane prodigy.”

“Insane is an apt description. I shall reframe from judging sober you intil an appropriate amount of time has passed.” Tamlen chimed, looking amused at the expression you were making at Merrill.

“You… turned me down, right? When I proposed?” It was probably not what you should have focused on, but it seemed the easiest, especially when compared to the fact you drunk-traveled through the fade. Merrill had been your favorite to romance in DA2, with Alistair and Morrigan tied for Origins, and Dorian the undisputed LI of Inquisition. You romanced them all but you had your favorites… which you were actively purging all ideas of romance now that you were in Thedas and had, apparently, _gone and asked Merrill to marry you six times._

“It was extremely sweet of you, but I’m still not interested. I hope you understand.” Merrill replied, peering at you with wide green eyes and a kind smile as she looked ready to defend her answer should you try for rejection number seven.

Luckily for both of your dignities, you were very sober. Tamlen’s shoulders were shaking, no doubt with mirth as the still unnamed former Prisoner looked sadden at Merrill’s rejection, outline dipping into a more solid blue before looking back at you, green bleeding back into the light.

“Thanks for letting me down gently.” You replied, burning with embarrassment. You were never going to be able to look her in the eyes after this, were you? You looked to the older man, desperate to change topic.

“You haven’t introduced yourself yet, ser.”

The man looked confused as Merrill and Tamlen nodded in agreement.

“You know, I don’t think we ever did get your name when we busted you out of that Antivian prison.” Tamlen mused, looking at the older man thoughtfully. “I understand why Asha broke you out, but I’m afraid we were too busy with the shit that came immediately afterwards to get proper introductions.”

“Not to mention the events that preluded our trip to your rescue.”

“Oh? What happened before?” The man asked, looking at Merrill in interest. You on the other hand was very confused. Why had you broken into a Antivan prison? Who was this guy?

“Lord Fen’Harel got frustrated with Asha and told Anders and us where she was getting her alcohol from. When we finally got rid of her stash, she got so mad she went straight to Tarasyl'an Te'las and woke Lord Fen’Harel’s up so she could yell at him to his face instead of just in the fade.” Merrill said with a shudder. “He was absolutely furious to be woken. I didn’t know you could hold an entire shouting match in two different languages.”

“And not know what the other person is saying because both people don’t speak or understand the other’s language.” Tamlen chimed in.

 _Oh sweet baby Jesus,_ you thought in horror. _No wonder Solas looked ready to murder me on the spot! I probably punted whatever plans he had in the balls, on top of the injuries he got from the dragon!_

“Maker.” The man said, looking at you with disbelief. “So the others weren’t the first Dalish gods she picked a fight with?”

“What. Other. Gods.” The words were punctuated, and suddenly the place sharpened into frightening detail and lights with the dropping of your stomach at those words. All three backed away from you, Merrill holding her hands up in a peace gesture as the three outlines dropped into solid dark blues.

“Maybe we should continue that conversation after Anders has stabilized Lord Fen’Harel?” the mage tried, looking at you with deep concern, Tamlen dropping his hands to the blades you just now noticed on his person.

“Yes, if you have no memory of what has happened in in the last three months, we should wait till everyone is present.” Tamlen reasoned.

“Three… months?” You whispered, hoping you weren’t hearing that correctly. That couldn’t be right, they couldn’t be right. They must be mistaken, because it sounded like they just said you’ve lost three months’ worth of memories.

“Well, according to Fefe it be closer to four months since you stopped us in time for three weeks.”

They had to be wrong. You couldn’t have been in Thedas that long and not remember it. There was no way you had lost three months of your life and not recall any of it!

“How about that introduction? I feel like introducing myself.” The older man interrupted, and you grabbed onto the conversation changer like a lifeline. You’ll deal with reality when there was a responsible adult present that wasn’t you!

Which you immediately started mentally wailing at upon actually learning his name.

I’m Maric Theirin, former king of Fereldan and recent resident of the Antivian Crow’s prison, Velabanchel. An absolutely charming place, the aesthetics of chains and cold dreariness truly a sight to behold, and the screams of tortured people really sets the ambiance of the place, you know?”

You made a noise that was a cross between a choke and a deep gasp, wholly unhuman in sound, Merrill making a "Oh!" noise as Tamlen grumbled, "Of course he's royalty. How typical."

He continued on as though you hadn’t made the sound of a dying whale, addressing you now. “Which you broke into, by the way, via using that wheeled house of yours as a batter ram. And then you began freeing the prisoners and starting a prison riot. After you got me out of the building, a Witch of the Wilds showed up to take me away. You had issues with this and informed her I was not going with her, which she ignored. You then proceeded to very respectfully punch her in the throat and drove off with me into the Fade, which is a surprisingly nice place to visit if one disregards the literal Dalish gods trying to murder us.”

“Which we will discuss _after_ Anders is done saving the Dread Wolf.” Merrill said firmly, giving Maric a scathing look before sighing. “That’s not a sentence I thought I’d ever say.”

Tamlen nodded. “We live in interesting times, Lethallan.”

"You two are awfully blithe over meeting royalty. Kind if refreshing really."

"You are not the first royalty to be kidnapped for their own safety."

"Come to think of it, she rescued him right? Does it count as a kidnapping if he wanted to come with us?"

You continued to make weird wheezing noises, not looking at anyone least they drop another bomb on you. Maric ( _holy shit, Maric! What did I do?!)_ Theirin placed a hand on your shoulder, his outline having bled from blue to a pale yellow.

“Are you alright, my child?”

The noise continued for a few seconds before trailing off into a series of giggles that sounded worrying even to you, both Dalishes looking deeply concerned. It took several deep breathes and box breathing but after a while you regain control of yourself.

“…sorry. It’s a lot to process.”

“Yes, sorry to spring it on you.” Merrill replied, looking sincerely remorseful, Tamlen not looking straight at you.

“I too apologize, I hadn’t meant to overwhelm you. It’s just I went from prisoner in a Antivan Crow prison waiting to either die or be taken by the Witch, rescued by my previously unknown da- _ahem-_ by a previous unknown _person_ , dragged through the veil, chased through the fade and one moment I’m falling to my death and the next I’m on a bunch of pillows with screaming people everywhere, all over a period of less than a day…” the former king of Fereldan justified, looking regretful nonetheless. “I’m a little… stunned as well, but after being told of your memory loss I should have been more considerate. I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.” A voice accepted from the doorway. “After all, it was a very busy and overwhelming day even by our standards.”

Felix Alexius stood in the door, outfit clean if more commoner style. “The Ancient, Samahl, has negotiated with the head… child? The one in charge of running this place for us to have a joint room, near the mirror that brought us into this emporium. Madame Asha, if you are feeling up to it, I’d like to re-introduce you to your Trailer Crew.”

 _Trailer Crew? Really? Who named them that?_ You thought absently as you straightened up. Truthfully you had no desire to go and meet more kidnappees with no doubt equally torrid tales of your mad method of rescuing and conduct but knew better than to push it off any longer.

“I guess now is as good a time to meet my other accidental victims.” You agreed dryly.

“That’s the spirit! And we’ll be right there with you the whole time, right guys?”

Merrill nodded enthusiastically as Tamlen shrugged half-heartedly, only to start nodding vigorously when Merrill smacked his chest at his lackluster reaction.

“Samahl’s condition to helping us was to talk to you, Madame Asha, afterwards. Says he’ll be in the room ‘just in case’.”

Merrill opened her mouth.

“He has also agreed to answer any questions we have so long as he can ask questions in return.”

The mage closed her mouth, looking excited as her light changed to a vibrant lime.

“Yes, let the old as dirt elf acquire potentionally damning information. Where could that go wrong?” Maric groused, yet stayed by your side, yellow still tinging his light even as it bled back to green.

Felix led you away, the halls still cramped with people. You were stopped by Beans and Pockets, both informing you the dogs were staying in their room for the time being. You thanked them as you continued, Felix leading you to the door down from your room, Samahl leaning outside it.

The elvhen pushed away from the wall, eyes focused sharply on you as he opened the door and motioned you and your companions in, his lights brighter than theirs.

With a deep breath you entered the room, hoping this was less horrifying than Maric and the Dalishes introduction.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be moving soon, so I will try to post one more time in December, otherwise I'll be posting on January 4th or 5th.
> 
> This was a lot longer, but I felt it would be better to break up both the introductions and reveals over several chapters, otherwise it would feel like too much of a info dump. I'm still not really happy how it turned out, but after re-writing it four times I kinda went 'screw it, lets nail it to the wall and see what sticks'. I may go back over it and fix it up later.
> 
> Asha also needs a break from making dying animal noises, after all.
> 
> Happy Holidays!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. They are amazing and you should visit them and read their works.

The room went silent as you entered, which did nothing to ease your nerves. Merrill and Tamlen moved the left side of the room where three elves stood, a man (a pale-yellow light) and two women (the older of the two was a bluish-purple, the younger a yellow-tinged blue). Samahl closed the door behind himself and leaned against it, whether to keep people out or in you weren’t sure, his light a sky blue. Maric stood by him, nodding in greeting to everyone with his green colored outline.

Felix (greenish-blue) stopped in front of a group of four, all human and various in age, two females and two males who all gave you side eye that made you think they were plotting out the quickest way to stab you, their lights a unfriendly purple.

By them were the two dwarves, the first a man of perhaps thirty years old with pale blonde hair and glaring at you in a strangely civil manner while the woman was sitting in a chair with her feet propped up on the table, looking very relaxed. The blonde was a purple with sparks of red, the woman a cheerful green.

A delighted squeal drew your attention back to the elf side of the room, and you watched as the unnamed elf man failed in his attempt to stop a small child from running towards you, his light a vibrant green.

 _Why is one of the Urchin kids in here- no._ You thought numbly as the small child tackled your legs. _No, no, no._

“Bois! You came back! Fefe said you would!”

You ignored Felix’s grousing not to call him that as you took in the boy and desperately tried to match his face with one of the twenty-six members of the Emporium’s Urchins.

And came up upsettingly blank.

“Hi.” You plaintively greeted, staring at the sunny bright smile of adoration the young boy was giving you-

Suddenly the young child was being pulled away… by a slightly older boy whose face you also didn’t recognize, his light a dull blue with brown blips in the color.

_Allah, Odin, Anubis and Eris, please tell me I didn’t kidnap a pair of small children._

“Come back to Soris, Ori.” The older lad nudged, smiling shyly at you. “Madame DuBois needs a breather before she passes out again.”

The younger boy’s lower lip wobbled, eyes widening in the most perfect puppy dog look as his color bled a bluish brown. The unnamed male elf with the pale-yellow light walked forward, picking ‘Ori’ up.

“Just wait a bit, scamp. Everyone is a little confused and need to talk it over, but I’m sure you can play with her once we sort everything out.”

The boy didn’t look happy but accepted this, letting himself be carried off, his light going green again. The older boy gave a jerky nod towards you before following the elf back closely.

 _No, no, no!_ Echoed on repeat in your head. You looked at Samahl helplessly, but the man just shrugged with an apologetic expression before fishing out a hipflask and started drinking from it.

Before you could think of addressing your other kidnappees a heavy thud repeatedly hit the door. Samahl cracked it open enough to see before yanking it open. The scarred elvhen opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a tired cranky familiar voice.

“One of your mages just got back with more trusted healers- and thanks for that, I mean it- and I’m only here to help with the introductions, explain to Du- _Asha_ what the last thing was to happen and then find a flat surface to pass out on.” Anders snapped, pushing pass Samahl, his front stained with an alarming amount of blood, his light a murky purple. Following closely behind him was a concerned looking Wells (brownish-blue) and an equally exhausted and bloody looking Athim (angry purple) who Samahl tried to block until you spoke up.

“Oh, please let them in. I need a couple of friendly faces I recognize right now, and I’ll be telling them what is going on anyways.”

Samahl shrugged but let them in, shutting the door after them and retook his spot against it.

“I still want to have words with you, Asha.” Athim tiredly snarled, trudging to the other group of elves. He only paused long enough to glower at the Dalishes until his sister elbowed him, Wells standing between him and them.

“So, they are her friend’s but we are not? I feel insulted.” One of the men by Felix said, tone sardonic.

The fellow next to him nodded in a dramatic manner. “We must be really unmemorable, for her not to recall such handsome specimen as we!”

“Well, _you_ must be.” Felix replied, tone dry. “She at least remembers me, if the horrified look she had before passing out till dawn was anything to go by.”

“But Fefe! How can anyone forget you and your boyish charms?” Anders crooned as he plopped into the chair next to the dwarf lady.

The youth scowled at him as he replied in a tone that indicated he knew his request was going to be ignored. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Okay!” you interrupted; voice edged with hysteria. “You all know me, but I have no memory of you, so could we do an introduction? I’m Asha!”

“But you called yourself DuBois…?” Anders asked, looking spitefully entertained despite his clear fatigue, wisps of green bleeding into his murky purple.

“That was my last name. I prefer Asha.”

Anders shrugged, still looking amused. “I go by Anders. We met when you crashed into the templars taking me back to the Circle and I decided to stick around.”

Simple enough, and it wasn’t a kidnapping, so you took it. Felix reintroduced himself before pointing to the four people behind him. “This is Phoebus, Cicero, Emilia and Vessia. They are people my parents hired to aide me during my stay in Orlais. I didn’t want to get them in trouble, so I asked you to kidnap them as well.”

 _Shit,_ you thought, staring unsure at the four people who half-heartedly waved at you. Vessia spoke with a deceptively easy shrug.

“We meant to just hold you off until the guards arrived to arrest you for trying to kidnap our ward but after you opened a hole into the fade under our feet, we chose to just follow along instead of risking being jettisoned into the fade without a guide.”

The oldest of the four, the one called Cicero, spoke in a reedy voice. “I am Lord Felix’s steward. Vessia is his maid, Emilia her wife and the personal cook, and Phoebus is the manservant. We care for Lord Felix’s needs.”

 _Right,_ you thought as you eyed the ordinary looking quartet _. I’m sure Lord “Can’t Cope With Reality So Imma Muck the Timeline” and his lovely wife, Lady “Murdered My Father-in-law Because He Threatened My Son” Alexius just gave their only child simple servants that are totally not capable of defending him if push comes to shove. Ten bucks says they are bodyguards. And probably good actors, because they certainly_ look _like they could be friendly and even jovial, yet the lights haven’t changed at all._

“I’m more curious about these four.” Phoebus chimed in, cocking his head at Samahl, the siblings and Maric.

“Ah yes, can we have an introduction? I’m most curious to meet Lady Asha’s friends.” Emilia tittered, and suddenly you were concerned you had a bard in your group.

The Sibling and Samahl looked around, noting the many curious faces while Maric looked like he was preparing himself. Seemingly unbothered, Samahl spoke.

“I am Samahl. I’m really old.”

Everyone waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t Emilia spoke. “And..?”

 _The man is a troll, isn’t he?_ Had to be if the smirk he was now sporting was anything to go by.

“Oh, sorry. I think my senility kicked in for a moment. What were we talking about?”

You aborted a laugh, others chortling at his response. Maric pushed from the wall, chuckling.

“I’m Maric Theirin.”

That killed the amusement almost everyone’s face and dulled many lights, the two female elves and dwarf lady and ‘Ori’ looking confused at everyone else’s expressions.

“King Maric? My cousin’s father?” The older boy spoke, eyes wide as saucers, the blue in his light brightening and the brown switching to a blueish green.

_Cousin? What cousin- oooooooh nononono._

“Is your cousin’s name Cailan?”

The boy nodded vigorously, gapping at the older man.

“Then yes, yes I am.”

Anders and Felix’s servants all let out a long-drawn-out sigh. “You couldn’t of told us we were kidnapping _another_ royal?”

 ** _Another_**?!

 _I’m sorry, but the meatsuit known as Asha has stopped functioning. Please try again later,_ you thought hysterically, wishing you had a strong beverage in hand. Had you really kidnapped Connor?! And what other royal did you kidnapped?!

“Oh Maker, does that make Madame DuBois his-” Phoebus started, only to get jabbed in the rib by Vessia.

“I’m _sure_ the current King of Fereldan will be most pleased to see his long-lost father. And it might garner us some good will after the allegations Lady Asha laid before the king.”

“I did what now?” That drew you out of the spiraling realization you had ( _maybe_?) kidnapped Connor. What could you possibly do against Cailan?

“You told a bunch of nobles that Cailan was being encouraged by his uncle divorce Anora and marry the Empress of Orlais.” The unnamed male elf replied in a nervous voice, adjusting the young boy on his hip.

Maric made a choking sound about the same time you started piecing rumors Xenon told you about in regard to Fereldan. _You_ had caused those?

Anders nodded, picking up the line of conversation up. “The King of Fereldan was called by his father-in-law to answer rumors about Cailan setting his wife aside to marry the Empress of Orlais, and then Asha arrived and was loudly against the union between Cailan and Celene, claiming Celene would never have Cailan’s baby because she preferred the company of women, but more importantly was a backstabbing bitch- your words, not mine.”

The healer was smiling a sort of smile that meant he was enjoying someone else’s suffering. “And then went on a loud speculation that Cailan was infertile because he claimed to have bedded numerous women yet has no bastards running around, so if he did marry Celene any child she had would probably not be his.”

Maric was gapping at you. With minimal success you ignored his stunned expression and pointed to Wells with a no doubt desperate expression on your face, hoping she understood your wish to move this along.

You eyed Samahl’s flask, wondering if it would be bad form to ask for a swig from it.

The elf was looking at you with a baffled expression, though luckily seemed to understand your nonverbal request. “I’m Wells. I grew up here in the Black Emporium and now work as a smuggler.”

Athim groaned as everyone looked to him, slumping against a wall in a manner that could almost be called petulant. “Athim. Healer. Currently irked at the woman who told me that the Dread Wolf’s name was Fluffy McFlooferpants.”

A round of chuckles escaped many in the room, though oddly enough most didn’t look surprised as lights brightened.

“Does that mean she’s no longer refers to him as the Dread Floofer?” One of the unnamed elves asked, an older woman with thick red hair that was peppered with gray.

The dwarf lady nodded, looking thoughtful as she rubbed her chin. “Fluffy McFlooferpants does sound better than Fuzzy Dreadbuttsauce.”

You didn’t know who was louder after hearing that, Athim with his sputtering, Wells delighted cackling or Samahl choking and coughing on his drink.

The older red headed elf lady nodded as though she was agreeing with the dwarf before looking at you with dark green eyes. “I am Aria, this is my daughter Varania. You hired us to be your… ‘babies’ caretakers after you caused a slave revolt in Ventus. You wanted us to come with you to prevent my death and Varania from betraying Leto, despite the fact my son is already gone.”

You still, looking at her face more closely and finding Fenris in the eyes and facial shape. How did you find them…?

“You claimed… you claimed he would be free and may one day remember us…” the woman’s voice warbled from emotion before she roughly cleared it, forcing her face into a mask, her light wavering between blue and yellow before settling on a pale blue.

“I don’t know if your vision is true or was just the ramblings of a drunkard, but if you plan to continue to keep my children safe then you have my support. I won’t hold what you said during your inebriated state against you, but If it is possible, I would like to continue being employed to you.”

“I as well.” Varania _(how did I find Fenris’s sister_?!) replied as well, nervously twisting her hands together.

The blond dwarf made a disgusted noise, mercifully drawing your attention away from the former slaves.

“I am Trian Aeducan, crown prince of Orzammer.”

 _I take it back; I wish I were still focused on the former slave women._ _How the hell did I get into Orzammar?! Wait, Trian? The guy Bhelen murdered and framed the Noble Dwarf with kinslaying?!_

The prince stood straight, sneering at you impressively. “You ripped a hole right in front of the Assembly, declared yourself an agent of anarchy and kidnapped Bhelen and I right in front of my father the king, saying you were preemptively preventing fratricide. That was after you led a revolt in Dust Town and had left this casteless lush’s children in charge of that, as well as handed Bhelen over to them as a hostage to be used against my House.”

Said casteless lush appeared to be the oldest of your kidnappee’s, fiery red hair framing a pale wrinkled face where a casteless brand stood starkly out on, eyes dark and twinkling with amusement as she interrupted Trian to introduce herself.

“Kalah Brosca. After you dropped your wheeled house on Beraht, Jarvia and most of the high ranking members you took over the carta, put my kids in charge of it and convinced them to take me on a… what’s ya called it? ‘A drinking binge across the world’? Something like that.”

The lady stretched before cheerfully going on. “My youngest agreed once you swore on your ancestors to keep me safe, and you left enough supplies and weapons to keep them going through a harsh and unforgiving year.”

Where did you get supplies for that? Had you stolen a bunch of weapons and foods?

“They had just taken over the eastern section of the Commons when we left, and I think Rica was negotiating with Prince Bhelen on putting him on the throne with their assistance.”

The prince glared at her. “Bhelen is too soft and foolish to rule. He’ll be a complete puppet king to your whore of daughter-”

Kalah reacted before you could, punching him in the jaw with an upper cut. It didn’t knock him to the ground, but it did make him stagger, Kalah glaring at him coldly as she stood up from her seat, her light bleeding fire engine red. “Mind your manners, boy. This isn’t Orzammar and I don’t havta listen to an entitled brat if I don’t wanna.”

Trian shook his head and snarled, lights matching the casteless’s in vibrancy and color. “You-”

“Besides, I doubt you’d be elected king after spending months on the surface-”

There was a loud crack that rented the air, and the silence that fell felt cold and Anders leaned forward, drawing attention.

“Right,” he started, voice sharp and commanding, face stony as he held his crackling staff aloft, his light still purple yet somehow sharper in color. “I know it has been a while so let me remind everyone of the ‘No Talks of Race or Politics’ rule again. I know we are tired, displaced and need to unwind so no talks that lead to physical altercations.”

Felix and Merrill had their staffs out loosely in response, Tamlen and the Felix’s servants quietly showing they were armed, and Samahl stayed at his spot on the wall, drinking from his flask in a relaxed manner you’d bet cash on that was anything but. Even Wells, Athim and Maric suddenly tensed at Anders cold tone.

Aria and Varania pushed away from the armed people, the mother purposefully standing in front of her daughter. She looked at the other elf that had yet to be introduced, jerking her head forward.

The elf in question was a twitchy young man who might have been close to Felix in age, and he gave the older woman a panicked expression as he nodded to the two boys, the younger of the two on his hip and the other partly hiding behind him, his light becoming a canary yellow. Aria glared ( _and oh did that expression look just like Fenris does in the game_ ), jerking her head towards you and the young elf wilted before clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention.

“Uh, Hello? I’m S-Soris. I’m from Denerim’s Alienage. You rescued a bunch of our women and children with Brother Boondock from Vaughan Kendells and his allies and paralyze them from the chest down to, um, I’m restating your words here, ‘make these sons of a bitches never be able to rape another person ever again’ and, uh, ‘ensure they knows what it feels like to be helpless and powerless’…? And, uh, they were calling it the ‘Saint’s Justice’, or at least Brother Boondock was calling it that…”

You… you had no idea how to respond to that. Personally, you were glad Vaughan and his cronies couldn’t harm anyone. But you didn’t remember a Brother Boondock from the game, or anything called the Saint’s Justice.

“Brother Boondock? Who is that?”

“He’s a human that started helping elves and poor people out? I, uh, don’t know where he came from, but he said you foretold to him that the Maker needed hands of justice against the wicked or something. You said… a lot of scary things, I was kinda too shook to remember everything but my cousins and um, community were so inspired by you and Brother Boondock they… left with him? To dispense more of the Saint’s Justice against the corrupted, the abusers and wicked… or at least that’s how my cousin Kallian explained it? I came here with you because the Saint’s Justice is a little… too much for me, and you requested someone to help you that wasn’t going to embrace the Saint’s Justice ways.” He explained, the canary yellow mellowing into a paler shade.

He readjusted the child on his hip, breathing a calming breath. “I had planned to just leave but you… You said there are thousands of ways to change the world for the better and, scary as you can be, I believed you and requested to be a part of your crew… so, here I am. Not sure I regret it or not and… I’m rambling, aren’t I? Um… Oh!”

You were still reeling from the fact you had apparently created a vigilante gang of possible religious basis when the city elf pointed to the child called 'Ori' on his hip, a boy of perhaps six years of age. “This is Oren, grandson of Teryn Cousland. You said you had to save him from the What’s, the Who’s and especially the How’s. There had been an actual attempt on his life when we got there, so we agreed to rescue him.”

“Hullo Bois!” the child waved, looking oddly happy when in contrast against everyone else in the room. He was the only solid happy green in a sea of dull blues, skittish yellows and murky purples.

The noise that came out of you could only generously be called a wheeze, Anders and Samahl both still sporting that infernal smug grin at the sight of your suffering.

Soris placed a hand on the older boy’s shoulder, nodding towards him and proceeded to confirm the boy’s identity that you had been futilely trying to deny. “And this is Connor Guerrin.”

“Hello again, Madame DuBois. You… told me ‘You’re a wizard Connor’ and that you wanted to help me learn it safely and took me away so I could train my magic without hurting my family.” The boy introduced, quiet and almost shy as he stayed where he was, slight behind Soris. “I don’t know if that is true since I haven’t done anything magical, but everyone says you are a creepily accurate seer and I don’t want to hurt anyone, and Anders and Fefe both agreed to train me if it manifests.”

You stared at the motley crew of kidnapped/rescued people, a ringing in your ears. You turned to where Samahl was still standing, eyes zeroing in on the flask in Samahl’s hands. Robotically you walked towards him, pointing to the alcohol.

“Mind if I get some of that?”

That was as far as you got when suddenly you got tackled from behind to the ground, air squished out of you as Varania yelled at Soris to drop the kids on you, your glasses askew when you turned enough to see Felix’s servants dogpiling on top of you with Tamlen and Trian, panic etched on their faces as they tried to crush you under their weight.

Anders somehow in the span of you getting tackled to the ground and nearly loosing your glasses had made it to Samahl side and was wrestling the flask from him, barely getting the flask knocked to the floor when the ancient kicked him in the gut, Felix and Merrill diving after the flask as Soris and Aria plopped Oren on your legs and Tamlen moved just enough to make room for Connor.

Anders somehow managed to stand, holding his gut as he wheezed, “Empty it! Empty it!”

Kalah yanked the flask out of Felix and Merrill’s grasp and proceeded to down its contents in record time, Samahl yelling at her in elvhen before ripping it away from the dwarf. Maric and the siblings were looking around startling at the unprompted chaos, the former loudly demanding to know what the hell was going on.

“What the heck?” you coughed, Connor determinedly sitting on your back to Tamlen’s gentle encouragement, Trian telling Oren to stay on your legs in a manner similar to how one talked to an untrained puppy as Felix’s people slowly and cautiously removed themselves.

With the exception of the siblings, Maric and Samahl, everyone’s lights had shifted into a eye-watering yellow and were only now starting to shift back.

Anders nodded to a woozy-looking Kalah in thanks before glaring at you, arm gripping his middle, his light blue with a yellow tinge. “If you think any of us want to see you drunk again after the crazy sh-stuff you pulled while intoxicated, you’ve clearly lost some intelligence on your last drunken debauchery.”

“I don’t even remember this last ‘drunken debauchery’!” you seethed, holding still as to not knock the kids off. It was a bit alarming that this crew of misfits worked so well together in order to prevent your drinking though. “And I was only going to swallow a mouthful! You can’t get drunk on a mouthful!”

“If anyone could, it be you.” You weren’t sure who said it, drowned out by the chorus of agreements that followed.

“Trying to get answers out of you when your drunker than drunk is like pulling teeth. Anders and the Wolf have been trying to sober you up for months and now that we got you sober, we aren’t taking chances.” Trian sneered, everyone grumbling in agreement.

“Exactly!” Anders agreed, rubbing his bruised stomach as he stood in front of you. “I spent three months trying to get you clean and I’ll be damned if you make me start again.”

“Swear tax!” Oren and Connor chirped at the same time, the younger of the two bouncing on your legs.

Anders didn’t even look away from you as he held out two coppers to the boys, who cheerfully took the money. “And with Samahl being an ancient, I wasn’t going to risk him actually having that glowy elf drink you kept drinking!”

“’Glowy elf drink’?” you grunted, Connor digging a knee in your back as he and Oren whispered something about having almost having enough money for something.

“You found a massive crate full of what I had assumed was lyrium. For months I kept trying to purge you of alcohol yet as soon as you started sobering, I’d find you dangerous inebriated again and had to repeat the process as I and the others kept trying to figure out how you were getting drunk since we threw out all the stuff you had and kept you away from taverns and pubs.” Anders said, looking worn out.

“We truly had no idea how you kept finding something to drink and I lived in genuine fear you’d kill yourself from overindulging. Fen’Harel - before you found his hiding place and dragged him into the waking world - told me it was actually something called Daura- Daure- _argh_ , Merrill? What did he call it?”

“Daurnathaan’dhava.” Merrill answered promptly, and upon hearing that Samahl paled. “He said it was an alcoholic beverage from his time that had wyvern poison brewed in it and then saturated with potent magic.” 

“Yeah, that, said it was placed in a sort of stasis until you found it. When I realized you had been regularly consuming it, I had all of it tossed out. You were not happy.”

You forced yourself to keep eye contact, shame and embarrassment burning through you.

Samahl sputtered, drawing your attention. “She was _drinking_ that stuff?”

“By the bottle. And they weren’t tiny potion bottles either.”

“How…how are you alive?” Samahl whispered, looking at you in confused wonder as his lights shifted into an amalgamation of green, blue and yellow. “Even without magic in it, that stuff is enough to kill a giant if ingested in larger quantity! Adding magic makes it not only more potent but extra lethal! It was so dangerous, the masters had to drink it from these teeny tiny cups the size of thimbles. Drinking an entire bottle of Daurnathaan’dhava should have killed you several times over and liquified your liver!”

“Really? That’s… interesting to know.” Cicero responded, and you swore he just crossed off trying to kill you with poison.

“I think she just reversed the damage being done to her.” Felix proposed, Merrill nodding in agreement. You could heal yourself? Damnit, why couldn’t sober you be good at learning magic as drunk you apparently was?

“She is very good at that! Remember when Trian broke her nose?”

Soris shuttered, looking slightly ill at the memory. “Don’t remind me, it was creepy seeing her smushed nose straighten back up like nothing happened, crunching all the way.”

Right, you were going to get one of them to help you figure out this magic. But first, you needed to get off the floor.

“I won’t try drinking anymore, can I please get back up now?”

Anders you could see was back in his chair, and you saw out the side of your eye a movement. Oren and Connor moved off of you, the younger of the two looking up at Trian as you got back on your feet and straightened your glasses, the boy's expression earnest.

“I did good?”

The dwarf nodded, patting him on the head and for the first time since you saw him, his light changed to blue with hints of green. “Very. Good boy, here’s two coppers since you listened so well.”

The child hooped in joy, running back to Connor who looked just as cheerful, both lights green. _Huh, no one acted like that was unusual. Maybe Trian was better with kids than adults? I can understand that._

Samahl spoke as you dusted yourself off.

“Now that you stole my drink, you can answer a few of my questions. How did you meet the Dread Wolf?”

“She had just recruited us.” Tamlen spoke, nodding in greetings towards the elvhen. “Anders was trying to sober her up when _He_ walked towards us, massive black shadow with burning eyes. And DuBois proceeded to take one look at him and threw herself on his nose and squeal ‘Fenny!’. I swore I pissed myself a little.”

“You did.” Merrill confirmed, as though you hugging the nose of massive demonic looking wolf was pretty normal.

“He sneezed you off, and you babbled at him about orbs, rebellions, false gods and eggs. None of which we understood but meant something to him because he took you away for a whole day. Snuggles- you remember Snuggles, right? Yes? Good- and the others stayed with us to keep other spirits from getting too close to the trailer.”

“Anders kept cursing Asha for getting kidnapped by an elf god and stranding us in the fade.” Merrill chimed in, Anders nodding in agreement.

“When you returned, Lord Fen’Harel was in his masked elvhen form and had decided to help Anders in his quest to sober you up. Three months, a dozen rescues and/or kidnappings, and many shenanigans that more often than not led to riots, revolts and rebellions later they still couldn’t sober you up.”

“I’m kinda awed you binged that long. I think the longest I ever been too shitfaced to recall anything was a week.” Kalah supplied, looking genuinely impressed by your accidental achievement.

Tamlen resumed to the twin cries of “Swear tax!”, Trian scowling at Kalah when she shrugged and said she was broke, Anders fishing out two more coppers for the boys.

“Then one day Lord Fen’Harel discovered her stash, and we threw it out. Her response was to use her vision to find where Fen’Harel was and wake him up. He was not happy to be awaken especially since her reasoning was something along the lines of how he was already planning to wake up soon so he might as well start now before anyone could mess the world up further, along with how dare he tell us where she stashed her magical booze.”

Yeah, no wonder Solas wasn’t happy to see you. The guy was probably trying to sober you up to get better answers and got what ever plans he had set on fire by a drunken human for his troubles.

“We discovered he was greatly weakened by whatever caused his Uthenera, but DuBois was angry and decided to rescue Maric and dragged him along. He actually stabbed her in the face, and she complained he was being a ‘total brat’. We broke into Velabanchel, started another riot, DuBois punched a Witch of the Wilds in the throat, angering the witch into following us into the Fade. She turned into a dragon and tried to kill us.”

Your ears were starting to ring, and a strange sensation was bubbling within you, clawing at the base of your spine like talons against bone.

“And wasn’t that just fun?” Anders snarked, leaning forward in his chair as he nodded to Tamlen. “As we were being chased through the Fade by a furious fire breathing shapeshifter, Fen’Harel and Asha got into some kind of argument, still not sure how since they clearly don’t speak or understand the same language in the physical, resulting in us crashing into the Black City. You,” Anders pointed at you with a baleful look in his honey colored eyes, “and the Dread Wolf refused to let anyone out of the trailer, and used your time magic to reverse enough of the time to redirect where you landed but by then we were being attacked three angry gods that were previously sealed in the City and got loose thanks to the crashing into the City… Merrill? Tamlen? Who did the Dread Wolf say they were?”

“Elgar‘nan, Ghilan’nain and Sylaise.” Merrill informed, looking sad as she continued, she and everyone else ignorant of the bubbling chaos growing inside you as your ears burned and eyes stung with the sharpening of details and colors. _I need to leave._

“You told us a lot about them. I… I was hesitant to believe but after you kidnapped Lord Fen’Harel and after the others attacked-” her voice broke slightly, Tamlen placing a hand on her shoulder. She took a shuddering breath before continuing. “I have a lot of questions for you and now that you are sober, I would really like them answered. I tried asking Lord Fen’Harel but he took one look at me and looked really sad for a masked man… and he doesn’t speak any of the common tongues, but you said to give him time and he’ll figure it out.”

 _I need to leave._ The thought echoed in your skull, the ringing getting louder as you eyes started hurting from your sharpening vision, the base of your back feeling like it was on fire.

Samahl was looking at you in genuine concern, eyes darting around the room as his color bled a stark blue with yellow streaks.

Athim was staring straight at you, face pale and his eyes kept glowing spastically like he was containing something, two outlines of light overlaying each other, like there was a fight for dominance. Wells paled at the sight of her brother, light shifting to a panicky yellow.

“Well, he isn’t masked now. And Cicero owes me three silvers, because he has only two eyes in his elf form.” Anders said in an absolutely smug tone, he, like everyone else, completely oblivious to the storm growing within you.

“I’ll be the judge of that when I see him.” the older man shot back.

“Unfortunately, we still have to find out if we were the only ones to make it out of the Fade.” Felix interrupted, giving the Dalishes an apologetic look. “Between the Witch of the Wild chasing us in dragon form and three murderous elven gods attacking us, Fen’Harel transformed into a wolf. Apparently, he’s much more powerful in the fade. But he wounded Ghilan’nain enough to keep her from following us out of the Fade and managed to bite off the Witch’s head, but with the exception of the halla lady, we don’t know if the other two came through when Asha tore through the veil or not.”

Your lower back was burning, and the world was developing static around your shifting vision and you barely made out the question Athim asked over the buzzing in your ears.

His voice was oddly… deep. “ **How… does she open the Veil**?”

_I need to leave. Right **now**!!_

That was all you thought as the bubbling sensation boiled over and exploded, a crackling sound tore through the air—

\--And suddenly in a flash of lilac light you were free falling, a terrified scream escaping you as the ground rushed up to meet you.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2020 kicked my butt, left me with a lot of open wounds and took too many of my love ones, but I will heal.
> 
> Still moving, so next chapter will be on the 18th or 19th, motivation, toddler and time willing.
> 
> Thank you all who take time to read and comment on this, you are wonderful people who keep my motivation alive.
> 
> Happy (belated) New Year!!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. They are amazing and you should visit them and read their works.

* * *

The ground below you abruptly shifted into water, which contrary to popular belief does not softens ones fall.

A resounding _SMACK_ echoed all around when you made contact, the water surrounding you before the pain even began to register. In fact, what registered before the pain was the alarm at being submerged in water since you couldn’t swim.

The pain penetrated your senses just as the panic set in, flailing and thrashing around as you panicked to breach the surface.

Then, because clearly you weren’t undergoing enough changes, the water shifted into mist, dropping you the rest of the way to the ground.

With a grunt you landed on your back, stars erupting from your vision. Tenderly you touched you face, relieved the glasses had somehow stayed. You heard yelling and people calling you name as you moved your toes and fingers, slowly making your way up your body as you checked for injuries. Perplexingly but not unfortunately you found nothing wrong besides a general ache that encompassed your whole body… which didn’t make sense as you had somehow gone from standing in a room nowhere near water to falling into a body of water that had turned into a condensed fog that you were currently stuck in. All which happened way, way too fast.

So even though your back throbbed and you were still soaking wet, you were technically fine.

Somewhere above you were the others, yelling your name so you called back. They sounded oddly far away but you couldn’t see anything in the fog you were in—

The fog abruptly cleared so fast you couldn’t stop the rapid blinking at the sights. You appeared to be standing on a cliff, a massive expansion of land sprawling beyond you.

The sight before you were a place designed by ever shifting realms of colors, lights, shadows, and places that seemed to shift before your very eyes without once actually changing at all. Trees rapidly grew and died, lakes filled and dried, a wall of mountainous peaks reaching ever upwards like grasping fingers, a sky of greens, blues and gold shimmering in a light that didn’t seem to come from any obvious source.

And directly above you, like glitch in the matrix was a shiny purple rift, far away enough that you should not have survived your fall. _I’m… physically in the fade, aren’t I?_

Great, just great. Because why wouldn’t you stress out and short cut into the fade on top of everything else going on?

_From that height, I should have been reduced to a thin pancake._ Your brain unhelpfully supplied, blankly registering that the rift was far away enough you couldn’t quite make out who was crowding around it to look down at you.

“DuBois! You alive?” Anders yelled, sounding genuinely concerned.

You managed a confirmation, which you barely got out when Trian started yelling.

“Stone damn it, woman! We- _here Connor, take a silver, I’m going to be swearing a lot_ \- we are not going on another ancestor forsaken adventure! We haven’t recovered from the last fucked up mess you took us on! Get back up here, you crazy nug-humping bitchborn slag!” Trian yelled, a cry of agreement echoing with him.

“How? How do I get back?”

There was a moment of silence after your question that was brief and followed by what could only be described as a cacophony of absolute despair and aggravation rang from the rift.

“What were you thinking or feeling before you fell?” Merrill’s voice carried over the others.

Looking around the mesmerizing landscape you answered, not sure what you were feeling anymore. “I was wanting to leave. I think I was about to pass out again… or start crying, I’m… I’m not sure. My back hurts though.”

Maric’s voice called down. “Maker, are you alright? You fell a ways!”

Anders answered, sounding exasperated. “Don’t worry, she’s fallen from greater heights than this and walked away just fine.”

“ _How_?” Samahl demanded, unseen.

“Magic.” Was the answer, delivered in a tone as dry as the Sahara.

“Guys? Any advice on how to get out of here?” _Once I’m outta here, I’m going to go to the Crossroads to nap. Screw everything else, the fade is less weird when you visit it asleep and is way simpler to visit that way._

“Try wishing really, really hard.” You weren’t sure who said that, but you glared up at the people crowding the rift, nonetheless.

“ _Helpful_ advice?”

“Maybe try different types of magic?”

“I still don’t know how to use it intentionally!”

“-of course, she doesn’t- _ohshitlookout_!”

_What now?!_ You thought, looking around and not seeing anything but the shifting world of the fade.

“The edge! Get away from the edge!” Felix bellowed, just as a long spindly limb rose from below the cliff you were standing, embedding the ground near you.

That was all you saw, as you turned tail and belted in the opposite direction. The hill slanted underneath your feet and you were suddenly running downwards, picking up speed as the trees sprouted thick and high on either side of you.

A crashing noise followed after you, a chittering sound at your back.

“ **Fra’fel’ala…”** it shrieked, inhuman yet distinctly feminine and far too close for comfort. “ **Ar ema ma!”**

The trees gave away to stones, huge and jagged, and desperation made you run through it, zigzagging through the rocks.

That was your first mistake was you spied a monstrous form jumping on top of them, leaping towards you. You barely dived behind one of the stones, a loud grunt echoing as it bodily hit the rock side.

Your second mistake was stopping. Lungs burning you turned to spy the creature, hoping to see it in order to run in the opposite way. One of the legs shot out from the rocky side and with a speed you couldn’t follow it violently pinned you to the rock, driving what air you had left out.

The thing turned in view and you finally saw your attacker.

Closer than ever before was the halla insectoid. The head shape, neck, and main body was halla, resting atop of eight long hairy spider like legs. The head was mostly halla, with the jarring exception of the too large milky eyes and a mouth that opened too wide filled with teeth and mandibles. Her horns looked more like the pinchers of an aggressive beetle breed than actual horns, thin fur with shiny green chitin covered the body.

“ **Mesilde** _**girem’lan**_ ** _…”_** The thing hissed as she snarled, milky eyes focused on you. “ **Sylaise** **ir'verem ma o’em! Mar emma** ** _!”_**

It(she?) pushed down on you, stars erupting from your vision before something huge and black tackled the bug-halla, dropping you to the ground.

Wasting no time, you painfully fled the rocky terrain, going in the opposite direction of the monstrous shrieks…

…and furious howls.

Looking up, you spotted the rift, tiny and too far away (how did you get so far away?) and blocked by the monstrous battle going on behind you.

“ **Ghilan’nain**!” Your stalker’s attacker howled, rumbling like thunder.

You were pretty certain your head should have popped off at how fast you turned to look at the bug-halla. _Ghilan’nain?!_

Which promptly caused you to trip as you saw it/her being viciously beaten by a massive black wolf you had only previous seen hanging outside of your trailer.

The halla insectoid hissed at the wolf, backing up rapidly from the onslaught. Fen’Harel, thrice as big as the demonic halla lunged forward and in a quick sickening crunch and tear, took one of her legs. A shriek escaped the green bug-halla who, realizing she was truly in danger, fled, still fast despite down a leg, using the rocks to evade the angry wolf.

For a moment you thought Fen’Harel would give chase, yet he reframed, form shaking hard.

For a moment he just stood there, all six eyes focused on where the beast had fled, waiting as harsh breaths were exhaled.

Once he seemed certain she was gone, he turned to you, red burning coal-like eyes fixed on you.

The jagged rocks melted away like butter and in a mind-bending swirl of magic, the wolf shifted to Solas. He was dressed similar to Trespasser Solas, with the clear exception that he had long auburn dreadlocks with an undercut.

And was glaring at you with black fury, his jaw clenched so tightly you could hear the teeth grinding, his body still shaking.

“Uh-” was as far as you got when he blurred in front of you, hand shot out to grab your forearm in a bruising grip.

“Shut. Up.” Solas said, in the exact tone he had said it when speaking to the mages that had bind and changed Wisdom. You sensibly kept your mouth shut as he all but dragged you back to the cliff side, unnervingly silent as he must have fade stepped to reach the cliff in such a short amount of time.

The rift was still there and upon spotting the two of you, the kidnapees cheered. Solas stopped directly below it, looking up in deep annoyance.

“Anders? You there?” He questioned, grip on you still unforgivingly tight.

“Here!” the healer replied. “May I just say, that right now you look better in the fade than you do in the physical?”

A wave of his gauntlet hand and a cascading stairwell shot out of the ground like a particularly eager bamboo shoot, stopping a foot above you.

“I’m sending the crazy woman up, make her shut that thing when she gets through. Stay out of the fade, Ghilan’nain is wounded but still dangerous. I recommend wards, the strongest you can produce. And kindly hurry up and heal me, I have a lot of damage to fix. Everyone else, keep the woman away from the alcohol!”

He turned to you, still glaring with profound fury as he pushed you into the stairwell. “Do not let go. Do not force it in a different direction. Do not jump out. Do not argue with me and shut that hole when you get through.”

You kept your silence, holding the rail.

“I know you probably won’t remember this but the next time I see you in person, I _will_ sober you up _even if it kills you_.” The last five words were snapped out in a rising half-snarl that made you lean back in fear, and with those frankly terrifying words he made an angry swipe of his hand the stairwell shot upwards and it was all you could do to hold on as it sprang up at a speed that made you nearly ill.

The rift loomed above and just before you crashed into it, the stairwell jerked to a stop and almost ensuring you tumbled over. You swayed on your feet momentarily as several hands grabbed onto you and pulled you back through.

The moment you were through the rift shut itself as though someone had cut its power source off, and everyone's lights momentarily brightened to a painful level once through.

Anders, still covered in drying blood and looking beyond tired sat in front of you, asking you doctor questions like ‘Are you hurt?’ ‘can you move this limb for me?’ ‘breath deep.’.

Once the man was absolutely certain you were fine, he smacked you across the head and started berating you, your intelligence, your decision-making skills, your ‘insane nonsensible magic’, your ancestry (Maric was oddly offended by that one), and humorously your liver for failing to cease working after having what was pretty much straight up poison pumping through it for months.

You barely registered the rest of the insults Anders was yelling at you, mind too overwhelmed by what had just transpired. What had transpired in the last _day_. You were very numb at the moment and you honestly didn’t know if leaving the fade had caused that or the fact you had singlehandedly doomed Thedas by unleashing members of the Evanuris.

_I need to get away. Take a breather from how completely screwy my life just got in less than twenty-four hours, away from accidental kidnapped people ~~oh gods what have I done?,~~ homicidal Mother of Monsters _~~your mind gibbered at the fact you apparently are being stalked by Ghilan’nain before slamming down on that thought with prejudice~~ _, and a Dread Wolf that clearly want to bite my head off_ ~~Shut. Up.~~ _._ You very indiscreetly eyed the door, and in a detached manner started plotting your escape from the room, as well as a temporary escape away from here and these people. _Just get away long enough to process this shitshow._

The light of the outlines dance before your eyes as various people surrounded you, and you made eye contact with Athim, who nodded towards the door in an understanding manner. _Somewhere less crazy than here._

* * *

“YOU _WANT_ TO GO TO KIRKWALL?”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so I struggled a lot with this chapter. Mostly life related reasons, but yeah.
> 
> I finished the move but my old apartment claims they didn't get my paperwork on time so I still have another two months before the lease is up. The m*therf**kers.
> 
> I will try to post next chapter either on the 27th or 28th... motivation, depression and life willing. If not, I'll just go back over and fix the spelling.
> 
> Thank you all who reads this, I hope this puts a smile on you face!
> 
> Asha: I'm going to Kirkwall! It's a lot less weird and crazy than my life right now!  
> DA2 Canon: heh heh heh hehehehehehahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by AntersandFangs and Celtic_Lass's Dragon Age based stories. They are amazing and you should visit them and read their works.

* * *

The Hanged Man was no less filthy than the first time you visited, though it was rowdier. Hendrich was staring a drunk down as Corff got the large Anderfel man’s order, and you could see the ex-templar’s eyes flicker under his bushy brows towards you every time some of the rowdy patrons swerved in your general direction.

You understood his attention, Toulouse had made it truly clear not to leave you alone thanks to Xenon.

_“YOU_ WANT _TO GO TO KIRKWALL?”_

_A nod confirmed this._

_“WHY?”_

_Xenon couldn’t make expressions, but his tone certainly indicated surprise. You had excused yourself from your kidnappees, Wells and Athim having helped in your escape by claiming you had to report to Xenon and that they too needed to report back to Toulouse. You felt no shame in bribing the Urchins to keep Anders and the others busy and away from you while you beelined for Xenon’s room, a half-baked plan in place._

_The first thing you did was inform Xenon of the identities of the others and had he the ability Xenon would have no doubt jumped with joy at not just having an elf god but a dwarf prince, three scions to noble houses and a former king in his care. Instead, he cackled long and villainously, which was how he always laughed when beyond pleased._

_He had summoned Mute to see if they needed to be returned or required asylum, along with what would be the price for his aide in whatever they wanted, and informed Mute to offer full employment to the rest or if they weren’t in the market for a job, a modestly priced trip to wherever they wanted to be dropped off._

_You would not be even remotely surprised if most or even all of them took Xenon up on his offer to send them off. Aria and Varania before you ran to Xenon’s reaffirmed their desire to stay with you (you were relieved to know you had been a fair boss to them while drunk and that their biggest complaint was now void thanks to you being teetotal at the moment), and Kalah stated she too wished to stick around a bit longer before trying to contact her kids._

_You managed to leave before anyone else could say anything, but with the exception of maybe Soris you truly did not think any of them would stick around. You’d be the first to admit you didn’t always get social cues, but a blind man could see they weren’t happy with you, and understandably so._

_You still needed to get the full story out of them (how you were going to go through that sober was a future-you problem) and maybe reimburse them for any and all traumas you accidently inflicted (and perhaps a full set of clothing as a ‘Thank you for not giving into temptation and murdering me during that time’ gift) and make a heartfelt promise to avoid them at all costs in the future._

_But first, you needed to get away and breathe a little before you… became overwhelmed and fell through the veil._

_Again._

_“I intend to do the plumbing sooner rather than later, and I was wanting to hire some elves and perhaps dwarves for the team and start a price comparison in material. Plus, I was hoping to start a small side business in making pizza to offset the expenses this project will have as I don’t want you to throw too much money in a venture that may or may not see traction in this Age.”_

I really hope that didn’t sound too rehearsed, _you thought as you did your best customer service smile. You only had till the walk here to come up with it so maybe an unfounded worry?_

_“…I DID GIVE YOU TIME OFF, REMEMBER? MOST PEOPLE TAKE THAT AS A CHANCE TO DO HOBBIES OR RELAX, YOU KNOW.”_

_“I know and am deeply thankful, but I have motivation right now and don’t wish to squander it.” That motivation was in the form of sixteen people and a dread egg who you were valiantly going to avoid at all cost, hopefully for the next 48 hours if not forever._

_“AND YOU WANT TO GO TODAY, PREFERABLY IN THE NEXT HOUR, TO GET A HEADSTART ON YOUR PROJECT… THAT WILL CONCURRENTLY MAKE YOU TOO BUSY TO SPEND TIME WITH A GROUP OF PEOPLE THAT, LESS THAN A DAY AGO, HAD BEEN HANGING AROUND YOUR HOME IN A CURIOUS MANNER?” He asked, sounded rather dry._

_“…yes.”_

_“HMM. WELL, I WOULD HATE TO GET IN THE WAY OF MOTIVATION. URCHIN!”_

_Mute appeared less than a minute later, light a sky blue with traces of purple, looking at you knowingly before going to Xenon._

_“TELL TOULOUSE I NEED HIM AND HIS CREW TO GO WITH THE WOMAN AND THAT SHE LEAVES IN THE HOUR. AND ADVISE ATHENRIL AND SAMAHL TO GET THEIR WORKERS UNDER CONTROL, THEY STILL NEED TO RETRIEVE THE REST OF THE WOMAN’S POSSESSIONS. ALSO, INFORM SAMAHL HIS REQUEST TO EXPLORE THE CROSSROADS HAS BEEN GRANTED WITH THE USUAL REASONS, RESTRICTIONS AND THE CUSTOMARY CONTRACTS AS APPLIES.”_

_The Mute nodded before heading back out, no doubt to delegate so he didn’t have to stop his eavesdropping._

_“OUT OF PURE CURIOSITY,” Xenon started, waiting only long enough to have your complete attention, “DO I NEED TO HIRE YOU BODYGUARDS WHILE THE ‘TRAILER CREW’ ARE IN RESIDENCE?”_

_“Uhhhhnoooo…? Maybe? I’m… actually not sure. I think I’m okay with them around?”_

_“INFORMATIVE.”_

_A different thought occurred to you at the idea of bodyguards. “Will… Fen’Harel be staying? Because I will need one with him around.”_

_Xenon made an inquisitive noise, a verbal prompting to continue._

_“I have been reliably informed that prior to my employment here, I had gotten very drunk and made a total ass out of myself and gave the Dread Wolf legit reason to want to maim me.”_ Or kill me, _you mentally amended._

_“HOW ‘LEGIT’ ARE WE SPEAKING?” Xenon replied, sounding very much like a grandfather trying out his grand-kids slangs._

_“I may have been involved in the incident that led to his current condition.”_

_“AH. THAT’LL DO IT.”_

Pretty much, _you thought, the black fury in Solas’ eyes flashing through your mind. You fully intended to avoid Solas for as long as it was feasible and had already decided that once Solas left (because he would) you were going to destroy the mirror room’s active mirror and never step foot outside of the emporium ever again. You’d help bring him down if necessary, but you were not going near him if possible._

_Before anything more could be said the smugglers arrived, Toulouse at the front, Jude following close to his father as Hendrich munched on one of the muffins you had shown Chef how to make, the siblings absent. When asked later, Toulouse would tell you he was keeping them here to watch his interests._

_“PUNCTUAL AS EVER. THE WOMAN IS GOING TO KIRKWALL FOR A PROJECT I HAVE TASKED HER WITH AND WILL NEED YOU TO AIDE HER IN ACQUIRING MATRIALS AND WORKERS. AND IF YOU COULD GET HER IN CONTACT WITH SOME BUSNIESS MINDED FOLK FOR A SIDE BUSINESS SHE HAS IN MIND, THAT WOULD BE BENEFICIAL. RETURN HER BEFORE NIGHTFALL.”_

Toulouse seemed happy enough to be out of the emporium, having started to rattle off various people you could meet up with who’d be willing to give a fledging business starter a chance, Jude by his said and looking happy to be included.

The morning had been very productive, you’ve acquiring three notebooks and charcoal to write down business ideas down thanks to Toulouse’s bartering skills. He had also directed you to people who you could buy materials from, telling you who to go to who would give you fair prices and the ones who’d give you good quality materials. You diligently wrote them down, as well as names of people to consider and to avoid.

You almost laughed at Bartrand Tethras being on that list.

As thanks, you gave him several gold coins to take young Jude wherever he wanted while you and Hendrich had lunch at the Hanged Man. Toulouse had stared at you with wide eyes before thanking you, happily telling Jude they were going to eat at a friend’s place in High Town, his like a grassy green. Jude was very excited to have quality one on one time with Toulouse, his light turning a summery green.

You couldn’t stop the smile when Toulouse surprised Jude by picking him up and flipping him over until he was sitting on his shoulders, the young boy clinging to his father with a shocked look that quickly melted into an adoring smile as the duo took off, Toulouse loudly telling Hendrich to keep you safe.

You then grabbed the gentle giant’s wrists and valiantly tried to drag him to the Hanged Man, failing with enthusiasm. The ex-templar chuffed in amusement before following. The place smelled of body odor and vomit, yet you were willing to endure that on the grounds that you miiiight be able to see Varric, who you were hoping would want to invest in your pizza business.

A fangirl could dream, right?

So far there were drunks, shady folks, a pair of nervous teens who clearly didn’t belong here and a disgruntled serving lady that had broken a handsy guy’s nose who you were pretty certain was Norah, but no dwarves.

_Sad face,_ you thought with mirth, writing in your notebooks as Hendrich came back with… well, technically food, but you were seriously reminded at how lucky you were at landing in a section of the Crossroads connected to the Black Emporium that had a talent if young group of cooks on staff.

You poked at it, deciding to try the ale Hendrich brought instead. It was… not the worst ale you’ve ever drank, but definitely not great.

_Now this tastes like despair,_ you thought ruefully, suddenly sad at remembering Eeyore. You really hope those two were safe, especially now that you knew Ghilan’lain was stalking you. And had Elgar’nan and Sylaise running amok who knows where.

Honestly, Solas was showing a lot of restraint at not murdering you for freeing three of the seven godlike beings he erected the veil to imprison. Though you weren’t sure if it was restraint of pragmatism, remembering his vow to sober you up.

He couldn’t get answers if you were dead after all (after carefully thinking it over, you were pretty certain Solas “sobering you up” would involve light torture), and you weren’t keen to find out if resurrection were a thing Solas would be willing to do if pissed off enough.

_Nope, not thinking about it. This is a no elf god zone,_ you thought vigorously as you drank the very watered-down ale.

The door to the tavern banged opened and a trio of dwarves walking in, the noise dropping slightly at the loud entry as the teens in the corner flinched violently at the sudden sound. You hoped it was Varric but alas these guys all had beards and knives, no Bianca or open shirt full of glorious chest hair in sight.

You did on the other hand recognize the grumpy guy in the middle.

“Hey!” you greeted, waving eagerly, remembering Icy Blues from last time.

The trio stopped, all giving you blank looks before the blonde gave an awkward wave back. _Oh shoot, he doesn’t remember me,_ you thought miserably.

Icy Blues muttered something at the other two who continued on up to the stairs, the dwarf you knew walking towards your table.

“Greetings, Ma’am?” he replied, looking at you in wary confusion.

“Hi. You probably don’t remember me, but you scared off a drunk that was harassing me the last time I was here.”

Icy Blues kept looking at you with polite nonchalance.

“I had a puppy named Rosie with me.”

Recognition flooded his eyes. “Ohhh, Damsel!”

You weren’t offended he remembered the puppy instead of you. Buddha knows back on Earth you struggled to remember people but could recall their pets with absolute clarity.

“Wanna drink? I’m buying.”

“Ah, free drinks and a pretty lady? How can I say no?” Icy Eyes agreed sitting in the free chair.

Hendrich chuffed good naturedly, heading back for refills and an extra ale as the rest of tavern proceeded to mind their own business, though you noted that one of the teens looked disappointed about something.

“So, do you come here often? Because I’ve only been here twice, and you’ve shown up both times.” You inquired as you poked at the “food” that was probably its own health violation.

“More often than I want to be. This idiot I’m related to lives here, like _willingly_ lives here.” He groused, light a purplish blue.

_Is… he referring to Varric? Wait is he Bartrand- No, no, no. You are not assuming anything till you got an actual introduction._

“It’s not so bad here.” He gave you a very unimpressed look at that.

“I’m here because I _have_ to be. you’re here because you _want_ to be, Damsel.”

“Hey now! I could be here on business!”

“ _Are_ you?” He asked, Hendrich arriving with the drinks.

“…no.”

“Thought so.” He grinned smugly, nodding in thanks to Hendrich as he took a big swig of his drink before frowning at it. “Still tastes like piss.”

“Cat piss with the foam farted off.” You agreed, drinking yours.

Both of your drinking buddies almost choked on their drinks, Hendrich barking out a laugh as Icy slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from spewing. Once the dwarf had his composure, he pulled out a notepad and jotted something down quickly before it disappeared somewhere on his person.

“So what is a lady like yourself doing in this shithole of a tavern?”

“Having lunch.”

He eyed the thing on your plate, giving it an sneering sort of grimice. “Scrumptious.”

“I know, right? How does anyone turn this down? Mostly though, I was hoping to see this guy.”

“Let me guess. Tall, dark, moody, and tragic past? Looks like he belongs on the cover of a trashy romance?”

You couldn’t stop the giggle at the mental image of Varric on a cover of such a book. “Nah, he’s short, blond, friendly and a storyteller.”

The guy posture somehow becoming very relaxed while his light took a darker purple shade with blips of red.

“You’re looking for Varric Tethras?”

“Yes, actually! Are you related?”

“Distant cousin.” Which made you relax. You weren’t dealing with Bartrand, but Icy’s lights here getting uneasily redder.

“Any reason you’re wanting to meet him?” He asked casually, red seeping deeper into his light.

“I’m looking for a business partner and heard he was fair and mostly honest.”

The red bled out, purple lightening up almost to blue _. Huh, that’s actually really useful._

“And you want to do a business partnership with him instead of our actual Head?”

“I, uh, heard Varric was… nicer?” you explained, going further at the look he was leveling at you. _How do I politely tell him his Head of House is a backstabbing greedy bastard? Nnnnope, just go with customer friendly reasons so he doesn’t bar me from meeting Varric_. “I heard Varric was friendly and more inclined to listen before deciding whether to help or not and would direct people to those who could aide if he doesn’t want to get involved. Bartrand on the other hand has, um, a really scary reputation? Like, scream at the help and hit them if he gets angry scary reputation? I’m sure he has great business sense, you have to in order to achieve as much as he has in such a short amount of time, but I don’t want to work with someone who might… hurt both my employees and me.”

Icy looked very shocked, like he never heard anyone ever say such things about his Head. The shock disappeared, replaced by a determined gleam.

“What sort of business proposition were you hoping to make?”

Thrown for a loop, you took a moment to mentally rearrange your thoughts. If Icy could vouch for you, maybe you could get a meeting with Varric?

Just treat it like an interview. You mentally encouraged yourself, trying to recall how those went (you hadn’t had a job that required an interview since you were eighteen, and you lost it after… after you lost your family), straightening your posture.

You told him how you wished to open a pizza joint (“A what now? Explain that to me.” “Okay, think a bread pie with tomato sauce and toppings…”), so you didn’t need to rely on your boss for everything (“Smart, making sure you aren’t financially dependent on anyone.” “Believe me, I already owe that guy too much as it is.”) and were planning to hire elves and dwarves predominantly (“Elves are cheap, and dwarves have actual quality than humans. I like the way you think.” “I wasn’t thinking about cheap labor!”).

Lunch was cold and even more inedible by the time you stopped, one of your newly acquired notebooks having been used to make goal list, and you saw out of the corner of your eye the teens leaning in your direction. _I’ll see if they are job hunting after this,_ you thought as you finally finished.

Through out the faux interview, Icy had peppered his comments with pointers and advice, taking one of your charcoals to jot down places you should try.

“Looks like you got this figured out. Not bad for someone who clearly doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

_And all of those pointers and advice said with an equal amount of backhanded compliments_. You thought drolly, cleaning up the papers.

“Yeah, but it is getting it into motion that’s tripping me up. No good planning if I can’t get help on this off the ground.”

“True. You still thinking about going to Varric?”

“Do you have someone else I could go to?” You hadn’t meant that seriously, but he straightened up and grinned almost sinisterly.

“Yeah. Me.”

That tripped you up, Hendrich leaning back in a way that allowed him to grab you quickly if needed, clearly just as wary at the way Icy was grinning.

“But… why? Wouldn’t you need your House Head to do something like this? And why would you want to?” You remembered reading that Bartrand treated even his own brother as a servant, you couldn’t imagine he’d be happy with a cousin making deals even as small as this one.

“Bartrand and I have an understanding with each other. Besides, this deal? Practically could be considered charity work as I think it’s a bit silly to open up a bread pie thing. But,” He continued holding his hand up to stall any offended exclamation you had, “you clearly have thought this out and are willing to put the effort into this venture to make it work. I can get behind that.”

“Perhaps we’d be more incline to agree if we had your name, friend.” Hendrich rumbled, the first you’ve heard him speak all day.

“I’m Asha. Asha DuBois.” You introduced, begrudgingly using your surname.

“Thorold Tethras.” Icy introduced… and his light rippled, a pinging of wrongness going off in your head and you just knew he lied.

“No, you’re not.” You blurted, mentally kicking yourself.

Icy gave you a cold look. “You calling me a liar?”

“How do I know you are really a Tethras?” You said instead, suddenly remembering he was armed. “I give you money and suddenly you disappear and House Tethras telling me they never got any business offers from me and won’t reimburse me for the lost coin.”

Hendrich’s hand was on his sword, giving Icy a cool look.

Icy had a strange look on his at that, somewhere between offended and delighted. “You!” He suddenly barked pointing behind you and Hendrich, causing you to jump. You turned and saw the pair of dwarves he had entered with, both looking oddly surprised. They nearly tripped over themselves to get to the table.

“Am I a Tethras?” He asked, glaring at the duo.

Both stuttered out a confirmation, neither light rippling. You looked back at him before saying, “Say it yourself.”

Icy gave a measured look before obliging. “I am a Tethras.”

His light didn’t ripple, and you relaxed. “He’s telling the truth.”

Hendrich didn’t relax but he did remove his hand from the pommel, Icy giving you a cuirous look.

“Why don’t you think I’m Thorold?”

You shrugged. “I heard he was a redhead.”

Icy gave a speculative look at you before going over costs and how much he needed to make this work, and on two torn out pieces of paper wrote up an honest to god business contract (making one of the perplexed dwarves in his employ write it up as the guy apparently had skill in that) and upon finishing it, pulled out an actual ring with a emblem on it and used it and wax from the table candle to seal it (“Just don’t tell anyone you saw me using it. Wouldn’t want me to get into trouble, would you?”), and had Hendrich and the two very confused dwarves act as witnesses to the signing. You tried to read his signature, and promptly understood why he had the other guy write it up as he had the handwriting of a serial killer on crack. You literally could not read his name, which may have been on purpose.

Once the ink and wax were dry, handed one of the contracts to the guy who made the contract and ordered him and the other guy to deliver it to Bartrand’s office in his mansion in High Town, ordering another drink on your coin.

“Well, this turned into a productive day!” Icy said cheerfully, draining his drink.

You felt like you’ve been hoodwinked but for the life of you could not figure how, re-reading your copy of the contract. Hendrich gave you a reproachful look over the rim of his tankard.

Your thoughts were derailed at the sound of a loud ‘yip!’, a startled cry and suddenly teens from the corner were chasing a tiny… mobile wrinkle?

“Ace! Get back here!” one of the teens, a scrawny blond boy chased after the wrinkle, his movement impeded by the other teen, an elf girl, who clung to him tightly and a… was that a cat in her other arm?

Icy dipped in his chairs, catching the runaway critter… that was a dog. A dog that looked exactly like a brown Shar Pei puppy.

“Ancestors…” Icey whispered, eyes glued to the puppy in his hands. “This is the crinkliest puppy I have ever seen! Look at this little guy!”

The fully grown and heavily armed dwarf who looked like he could have been a member of Thorin’s company heading to Erebor to reclaim the mountain from Smaug (who you were certain had tricked you _somehow_ but could not figure _how_ ) proceeded to coo and baby talk at the puppy that was just basking in his attention, and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the teens who also looked just as unsure as you on how to handle this situation. Even the cat the girl was holding looked distinctly unimpressed by the scenario going on in front of it.

_Okay, I don’t know why I ever thought this guy could have been Bartrand. But he wasn’t lying about being Varric’s cousin so at least he was honest about that._

“Um, dude? Can I have my dog back? Please? He ain’t housebroken and you do not want that mess on ya.” The teen asked politely as he eyed the knives warily, but your ears pricked at the distinct accent the kid had. You sat up straight, staring at the kid intently.

“Hey, excuse me?” You waved, getting the teens attention. You breathed deeply, considered how you wanted to ask this and thought, _fuck it._

“Okay, so I’m crap at differentiating them, but is that a Boston or a New Yorker accent?”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and good fortune to you all.  
> Life is continuing to beat the tar out of me, and I have realized after a very scary dissociation episode that almost ended in tragedy that I need therapy to work through the last two years, as well as issues that have been ignored for too long.  
> I... know therapy is good thing, but a lifetime of being told you don't need it and that your problems aren't that bad and therapy is for crazy people is hard to shake off. I am eternally thankful to my wife and friends who are supporting me in this.  
> I still plan to continue this though updates will be slower.  
> Hope you all are well, healthy, happy and that life is improving every day for you.


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